The Hunger Games: The Spark
by Topaz Ingenious
Summary: When the Capitol regains control of the Districts and breaks the Mockingjay, it's up to a girl from District Five to try and avenge her, using her wits and what skills she has to attempt to prepare for the 76th Hunger Games. And stop a tyrannical ruler that may be even worse than Snow was, and ensure that she protects what matters most to her. No matter the plan.
1. Part I Prologue: The Mockingjay Is Dead

_Note from the Writer: _

_This is Rated M because of how the story develops. Deeper into the story, you may see dark elements, gory imagery, language, (language mostly in the Hunger Games). That seems to be it. I already have the story made up, and I wanted to finish it before I put it up n . This is, honestly; in my opinion, my best work. It's not all just ruin and darkness, but also character development and I even almost cried at some parts. Take that as you may. Anyways, hope you enjoy my story._

"_There will always be a Mockingjay." - Filmlia Treen_

It was a ordinary day in District Five. A Saturday. I was sharpening my arrows with a butcher knife, thinking about how Katniss's effort to overthrow the Capitol is going. Feeling sorry about all she's lost. The Capitol Seal appears on the luxurious television screen. _Why is there a Capitol Seal?_ Then it hits me. As soon as I realize it, Snow appears on the screen. Pristine as ever. Untouched. Unfazed. And out come the words I wish he hadn't said. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have broken the Mockingjay."


	2. The Mockingjay Is Dead

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have broken the Mockingjay." I think he's lying until Katniss's body is displayed on screen, on top of the ruins on District 12. I can't take my eyes off the screen, and saying isn't so. The Mockingjay is Dead. And she lies dead with her own arrows lodged in her intestines, buried on top of the ashes of her own District. In her Mockingjay outfit. Only the Capitol could think of something so wrong. Snow progresses in his usual joyful demeanor, but all that lies beneath it are lies and death. "The Capitol has regained full control of the Districts, and anything that was left of the Rebellion has been extinguished, along with your Girl On Fire. In the coming days, you must prepare for the 76th Hunger Games. Prepare to remember why no one should ever rebel against the Capitol. You are the reason why we do what we do. You are all examples as of why Panem is such a prosperous nation. Thank you, people of Panem. For keeping our tradition alive of becoming a beacon of hope."

The screen fades and I stare at it, boiling with anger. I look in the reflection of the television screen, turning around to see my fourteen year old brother running away. I know trying to help him won't help. I know trying to calm him down is useless. He saw everything. Everyone did. And the Capitol will, no doubt, amp up the stakes of their dreaded little games. And if I were able to rebel against the Capitol by any chance, it's bound to be harder. Even more heavily fortified, more security. And more people out for blood. They've also revamped their Capitol Seal to that of a Mockingjay bird, wings spread out, split in certain parts with tears in the wings, split beak and cut throat. And they even have their own motto: _The Mockingjay, because you couldn't either._

My brother can still be heard crying in the distance. I begin to get a lump in my throat, but I don't cry. I never have. I've felt the pain when one comes on, and that's all that comes. For three years, I've watched people die in those arenas, and some go of to live out their lives in riches. We had victors; unfortunately, I never enjoy watching my own people die. Or people I knew outside my district. Like Katniss and the rebels helping her War Effort. I'm pretty sure they're dead with the Mockingjay now, too. They have to be. _Benefactors to the cause._ I feel the lump in my throat get bigger as I think of the people that died in her name. What a hell she went through. How did she manage it? She probably couldn't. I don't blame her either. I use a coping method I developed a couple of years ago, holding my breath for ten seconds, thinking. _Breathe. Breathe steadily._ And then releasing, slowly. The pain still remains, but it diminishes some of it. Making it a little easier. I hear my mother's voice, soft but in extreme pain. Enough to make you wonder what exactly she's been through; enough to break you. My mother had a son and she watched him gutted live by someone from District Two. And a friend she knew that died of electrocution at work one day with electricity. I think the one with her son was the worst. Reportable to be one of the Most Gruesome Deaths in the Hunger Games. I was a kid when I watched it, and my mother wasn't strong enough to tell me to look away. Eyes glued to the screen, watching it all. My brother, Harry Treen, was a baby then. I guess the vision doesn't register enough for him to remember now. He's only three years younger than me. My mother calls my name again after me being lost in thought. "Filmlia?"

I turn my head her direction and I see an able-boded old woman, almost wrinkly skin. About fifty-seven years old, give or take. I never ask. "What is it?" I reply in my strong and powerful voice, with a hint of tragedy hidden underneath. "What are you doing in here?"

I turn around and decide to tell her the truth. "The 76th Hunger Games are on."

My mother's face begins to drown into shock, and walks towards me, hugging me as tight as her bones can muster. Sometimes, I grit my teeth as a coping method, too. Hard enough to instill pain, to remind myself to stay strong enough to react accordingly in front of people I love. The last thing on my mind is for people to see me break. I've been told before that I should take a breather because I take things so seriously, because I never take a break. I wasn't always that way. When Katniss became popular after the 74th Games, I became inspired by her determination to outsmart the Games, and to keep going amongst all odds. I trained myself to be like her, to be stronger. So, when I'm not at work, I'm either practicing Archery with my friend Iris Montague. And lately, I've been the one teaching her. Her figure resembles mine. Slim, but firm and agile. After the 74th Games, I also started wearing her braid and a Mockingjay Pin given to me after the 75th. As part of the Rebellion Effort. Iris always wanted to rebel, but I'm not sure what she'll think now. Possibly Katniss's death will change her mind and cause her to have second thoughts, which is a bad thing. Be even worse if she saw what I saw. She doesn't keep her emotions in check like I do. She does, just not as well.

My mom still has me in an iron grip, crying on my shoulder and I pry her off of me, grabbing her shoulders and firmly replying. "Don't worry. If I go into the Games, I'll make sure to win."

My mother tries to agree with me with the nod of the head, and has trouble doing so. What with the stream of tears. I wipe one away with such care you'd think it was a bomb. "Hey,"

My mom frowns at the ground and I tilt her head up. "I'm not going to let them kill me."

My voice strong, unchanging. And my next words even more so. "Promise me that you'll stay strong in front of Gabby. Okay?"

She mumbles that she will, but I ask her to say it a little louder. Stronger. After a couple of tries, she does it. Gabby's not always running away. When his fourteen year old mind can't handle something, he just runs away. When everything's okay, Gabby's actually pretty fun to be around. Caring. Smart. Funny. My father, who would've been my father, died in the Games. They were about to be married after being together for so long, and died in the Games from a mishap involving electricity. And we _make _and _use_ electricity here at District Five. That's why my mother doesn't necessarily trust anyone but family, only exception being that someone she's known for years. Even if it were family, she still has to get to know them better. The idea sickens me, but it's better than nothing. Every time we go to work, my mother's stomach clenches tight enough and painfully enough you think she's in labor. _Like we need another family member to go into the games._ I decide to get out of this house and head out. Thankfully, it's not work day. We work on weekdays only, and I'm in Electricity at the Hydroelectric Dam. It was destroyed during the Rebellion, looks like some of it has been rebuilt by the weak and the strong inhabitants of District Five. The Capitol is bent on making our lives miserable, and the last thing I want them to do is smile at my heartbreak. At my pain. The Games were enough to twist my stomach, to get a little sick; the people I've lost over the years. And Katniss's death has just made it worse.

Every now and then, at the Dam, something goes wrong but it's nothing life threatening. Sometimes it is, and the workers won't be excused home because of how much our effort is needed. Lately, there hasn't been as many workers there considering they're still rebuilding. I decide to pay a visit to Iris's house inside one of the mountains of the district. She's a geologist. It's about a fifty minute trek from where I am, and a ten minute's walk from the Dam to my house. I pack a pair of thermals, a mask, a hoodie, three bottles of water, and some chicken legs wrapped in napkins in a satchel through the shelter, and I'm on my way. Not telling anyone where I'm going. It's a nice walk. I get a beautiful view of the scenery, the mountains in the distance. I catch sight of a Hawk swooping overhead, imagining what it feels like to be free. Free to do whatever you want, and get away with it. To go anywhere and not be questioned. The wind in your face. The wind begins to grow a little stronger and the air is starting to get colder. Which is why I brought the thermals and the jacket. What sweat built up is beginning to almost freeze at moment's notice of the climate change. My mask protects al aspects of my head but my eyes, which are freezing. Can't really find a way around that. It's thirty minutes in now, and I'm down to three chicken legs after finishing two. And I'm already done with my first water bottle. Since my district is wealthy, I have access to food like meaty chicken legs and medium-sized water bottles. And when I return home from Iris's house, they supply me with the goods needed to make it back home. Sometimes I take longer than fifty minutes to get there. There's this one spot where I end up five minutes from the house, and I sit on a mountain, watching the waterfall in the distance. Close enough that I can hear it. The sound of it relaxes me. Sometimes, after leaving from Iris's house, I just wade in the waters, behind the waterfall. Sometimes I even decide to swim because it's so deep, and because it's a way I stay fit. I breathe the air, which is a little warmer than it was when I was freezing. _If only everyday was like this._ Now that the Games are back on, it won't. Iris's house is inside a mountain, and she had to show me which mountain it was the first time. We met each other during the Reaping of a Games, trying comfort one another and didn't speak much afterwards. Overtime, we would catch sight of each other and move on. One day, Iris took the initiative to get to know me better after her brother had died in the Games. I wouldn't blame her either since I saw Iris and her brother, Fasco, were very close. Almost impossible to remove them. But the Capitol did. Eventually, we became close friends and taught each other what we knew. We've been friends for four years now.

I enter Iris's house and see Iris is crying on the floor, probably for a while now. What with how her body is positioned. Her parents, or her father, are at work. I shut the door and Iris hears me, trying to stop the tears. Must be about Katniss. The Games. I put my satchel on a ground with my jacket and mask. Still in my thermals, though. I rush to Iris's aid and ask her what's wrong. When she gathers the strength to speak again, which seemed like hours, she makes out words that make the Games even worse. "They're reaping two males and two females."

She doesn't know about Katniss yet. Snow must've broadcasted the new rules for the next Games. "And the Careers are going to be worked even harder to kill the rebelling districts." Iris continues. It'd be bad for them if the Games weren't such a thrill to them. And now, it's bound to be worse. As payment from almost successfully overthrowing the Capitol. And Snow knows just how to pacify the districts. To break our spirits even more. Getting away with killing hundreds upon hundreds of lives, and he'll kill even more. Somehow, someway, I will avenge Katniss Everdeen.


	3. The Reaping

Forty-two tributes. Only one comes out. And either me or someone else will kill three people from my district, even if I'm one of them. I don't know what I'm going to do if I end up having to kill someone from my district. Honestly, I want someone else to do it. Or me be as far away as possible so I don't hear their screams. But I can't escape the cannon. Three days later after discovering there'll be more tributes, and possibly from now on, I expected the Hunger Games to take place in a week or so, but it's today. On July Fourth. Not sure why it's on a different day, or what significance this day had. Must've been something celebrated before the Dark Days. I change into my clothes and in the mirror I see my mother is trying to unbraid my braid. "Don't." I spit back. "It's in memory of Katniss."

My mother keeps unbraiding and I keep trying. "Mom, don't do this."

"Why?"

"Because when I'm out there, they need to know."

My mother stops for a second. "Know what?"

"That the Mockingjay's Death didn't go in vain."

My mother strikes back a little more fiercely. "Filmlia! Displays of the Mockingjay are not allowed. Snow said so!"

"Well, Snow is a liar and a murderer."

If I spoke this out in the Square, the Peacekeepers would've shot me where I stood. In the Capitol, I'd be hated, spit on, beaten, cut, bruised, and hanged for even displaying what I believe. But here, in my house, my mother complains. "Fine. Do what you want. But remember, it'll all come back to us."

It will. And mother walks away from the mirror, ignoring the pin on my shirt. I know this won't be easy, and it wasn't meant to be. I know whatever I do will eventually be the cause of deaths I can't control. And there'll be no way to deny it. My pin. My hair. Even my Archery. I meet Gabby outside the house with my mom and we make our way into the crowd to the Square. "Hey, what's that?"

Gabby looks at my pin. He's almost as tall as me. But not close enough. He's 5 '3' and I'm like 5 '8.' His face is like that of an average fourteen year old. And so is his figure. Not too strong, and not too fat. I don't know if I should tell him or not. He saw Katniss's dead body on the screen, and apparently heard about the Mockingjay being dead. So he pretty much knows. I didn't notice him until the screen went black. "The Mockingjay Pin."

His face turns terrified and asks. "Why do you have it with you?"

I explain why and instead of crying and running away, he congratulates me. I'm unaware of what to think of this. Maybe he wants someone to do something about all this, too. He's smarter than I thought he was. I smile back at him and mess up his hair a little, at which point my mother tells me not to and fixes it back with a comb she had in her pocket. When we reach the Square, I notice something off the bat. Effie's not here. Someone else. When we come to a stop in groups of boys and girls, the woman introduces herself as Amaza Flinch. Dresses like Effie, has the same figure, but doesn't sound like her. She has a more stricter voice. _Defaming a popular name under another._ I think. As always, there are two glass bowls with names. This time, they'll have to reap two boys and two girls. _Great. This'll be fun._ I think sarcastically. Not only will there be more tributes, but also having to deal with more people you don't like or have no business being around. Amaza even says Effie's line. "Ladies' First!"

She doesn't have the amount of joy Effie did, and it's obvious she could care less. When she reaps from the bowl, the first name she calls out is mine. _I should've known._ I wait for someone to volunteer, and then Amaza announces. "And we are not allowing volunteers this time around. Thank you for your cooperation."

I roll my eyes. Reapings are Reapings this time. I take my spot on the stage and I glare at Amaza. She smiles back, almost. When I take my spot, she looks back at me and compliments. "You look fierce."

I don't smile back, and I don't look back, and then she makes a half-hearted attempt to make things better. "Keep that look, and you just might make it out alive."

She turns her attention back to the Reaping and I look back at her with disdain. My expression turning even more fierce. Amaza calls out a name that I've never heard before. Merissa Monogan. A little more built than I am. Dark flowing hair that flows to her shoulders. A dark expression on her face. She takes her place beside me and Amaza calls out the next two names. Ezekiel Bouldman and Mezchi Thorpes. Ezekiel looks older, oldest of the tributes so far. Masculine. Mezchi looks like he's fifteen. Almost the same figure as my brother…

When we're finished, I exchange a three-finger salute. I know this would be met with resistance and only make things worse, so I prepare for the worst. They can't kill me. Not now. Not when they're sending me to the Games. But a Peacekeeper hits me hard enough in the temple to knock me to the ground and three others kick my side as I lie on the ground. Three of them finish after about a minute and one wallops my face with their foot, busting my nose even more, dragging my body onto the trains. _Making a spark._


	4. The Trains

I end up in the back of the train with Merissa. Getting to know each other more. Merissa is the daughter of a man that draws plans for means of bettering the district. Plans like the Dam. Merissa was famous for being the daughter of a man that helped make iconic features for the district. When her father was laid off, he wasn't handling it well, and mistreating his daughter sometimes. Being the only child, she didn't have much to call family after that. I tell her how sorry I am, and she says it's no problem.

Next thing we know, we see the Capitol. So beautiful. And yet, so corrupt. Full of people starving for more Hunger Games. "Wow." Those words escape mine and Merissa's lips. We reach our stop and we exit the train, remembering we were here with other people. The two boys from our district, Amaza, and Wayden, who is apparently drunk and falls flat on the floor. Ezekiel tries to pry him off the ground, and I help him out. Once Wayden is back on his feet, he seems to wake up from his hangover and takes a second before he snaps back to his senses. "Wayden?" Questions Mezchi. He repeats it again and Wayden looks at us, weirdly. "Where am I?" His voice is different, so is his demeanor and personality.

"The Capitol. We're here for the 76th Hunger Games."

A smile appears on his face and he covers his face with his hand, feeling stupid. "Oh." He goes on to laugh drunkenly.

Must be the fact that he has to help and teach new tributes about what to do in the Games every year and now he doesn't care about what happens. "And I'm sorry about…whatever I did."

Merissa tells him there's nothing to be sorry for, and Amaza interrupts. "Now, if we're done playing catch up again. I suggest we make our way to the Remake Center to prepare for the Opening Ceremony."

_Heartless._ Despite supporting the Games, Effie was more enjoyable. But I guess things changed after the 75th. We follow Amaza's lead and Peacekeepers follow behind us and lead in front of us. Must be because of me. Later on, I find myself naked, washed head to toe with a high-tech shower, distilling a mist that covers me in soap and washing me dry within moments' notice. Next, I'm on a table with people putting something on my body. They tell me this is going to hurt a little, and I think. _What could be so hurtful about paper?_ Then they rip it off my body and I grunt. They show me the paper with three or four hairs. I stare at the paper and a gaudy dressed man with too much plastic surgery that showed me the paper answers the question in my mind. "That's why."

I roll my eyes again and a pink-faced woman remarks. "I saw that."

_Of course you did…_ In these short moments of knowing these two, this is all I want to know. Capitol citizens aren't only starving for the Games, and are out for the next best thing. But are also the strangest people I've ever met. I just hope I get a good stylist like Katniss did. Someone that's not obsessed with looks or age. About an hour into trying to get the hair off my body, I'm told that they need to wash off any remaining hair or filth. The idea sickens me. And annoys me. They already removed the hairs underneath my skin they were so thorough. And they need to do it again. I know I'm wealthy, and that I'm from District Five. This is too much. When I'm washed, I'm led into a room to sit on another table and wait for my stylist. Butterflies fly around in the playground that is my stomach for what seems like an hour. When the door opens up, my stomach twists and I get sick. When the able-bodied man steps out of the door, he looks normal. Human. No makeup anywhere. But also terrifying in the way he walks. He wears a black long-sleeve shirt with intricate designs on it to make it look futuristic. His pants are the same, but not connected to his shirt like I'd have imagined. And his voice is terrifying, too. "Wake up, sunshine."

His voice almost sends chills down my spine. I don't let it show. I sit up and my stylist tells me to relax. And I already was, but I take his advice. He gets in closer to me and introduces himself. "I'm Trent Bourdon. Brother of the Gamemaker this year, Isaac Bourdon."

And he just got creepier. Though, unlike him, I trust that he won't kill me. But there's something about him that shows that he cares. That he'd hate to see anything wrong happen to me. "Don't worry, you're safe around me. I promise."

And unlike anyone from the Capitol, he's not trying to make any weird moves on me or rip hair off of my body. Regardless, I give him a warning. "If you give me a terrible costume, I swear-"

He interrupts. "I won't. If you've seen my work, you'd know I'm one of the best. Like Cinna was. I'm sure you've heard of him."

He grabs hold of my pin and tilts it side-to-side gently. "You're either the bravest girl I've met, or the most suicidal."

"Both."

I reply with a little smile. Trent lets go of my pin and asks me. "What's your job? Out of the ones available?"

"Electricity."

He crosses his arms and gives a weak smile, disappearing almost immediately. "I have something for you then."

He tells me to follow him and he tells me on the way. "When I was chosen for District Five this year, I went through the options of the main functions of the district."

He tells me to stay here while he goes inside a room to bring out a mannequin wearing an electric dress. It's beautiful. More than beautiful. Sleeveless, mini hand-gloves, a wig, a skin-tight, sleek dress with straps down the stomach, attached to the lower half of the dress, and heels. The whole design is black with a dark blue color scheme. I put it all on and when I do, I look at myself in a mirror. I run my fingers through my stomach and I almost jump as the dress and the dark blue lights up. I'm a Tesla Coil. The circuit starts from the heels up, to the dress, in correspondence with the gloves when it reaches a certain height. It continues up the dress and when it finishes it's trail up the dress, it switches course to my wig, lighting up certain strands of my hair. I'm breathless. I had learned about electricity in school, and I was slightly interested in it. Right now, my perspective is changed radically in this one, unique moment. A moment I'll never forget. A gleam of hope knowing I'm going to the Games. Amaza can't be counted on. Wayden is _okay._ Still not sure if I should trust him or not. But Trent is brilliant.

Trent doesn't say anything. And that's fine. He's just looking at my dress like I am. I gaze at myself in the mirror, watching the electricity surge through me. Watching in awe. I begin to crack up when enough time passes and Trent points out. "We should give the power pack some time to recharge."

He turns it off and I agree. "It'll be brighter later on when you're outside in the Opening Ceremony. That was just a minor charge for display reasons. Won't be able to see much in the sunlight with that type of charge."

Without thinking, I go towards him and hug him as tight as I can, thanking him for being a wonderful stylist. I force myself off of him and give him some space. "What about the others?"

"You were the last, so the other female tribute will be wearing something geological related. The males electricity and solar related."

I nod in agreement and he leads me towards the open world. The closer we get, we find the others meeting up with us, coming around the corner. Merissa's costume looks amazing, so does everyone else's. Though, expectedly, Mezchi doesn't have stomach straps like I do. Good thing, too. Merissa pairs with Ezekiel and Mezchi pairs with me. As we approach the chariots, Trent tells us. "Make sure to smile and wave for the crowd. Show the people you love them."

The idea is preposterous but understandable. We do need our Sponsors to help us in the Games; nevertheless, there's the matter of our mentor. If he's still willing to actually _help_ us in the Games. It's not time to mount the chariots just yet and I take this period of time to get to know Mezchi a little more. "So, before we go off into the slaughter, what'd I need to know about you? What with us being in the same district."

He looks at me, but doesn't answer back the way I'd expect him to. "There's not much to know about me."

"There has to be something."

He shakes his head in disagreement. "I'm going to die anyway, so what's it matter?"

He turns his head away from me and I turn away from him. I walk away from him and decide to head to one of the horses, petting it. Merissa joins me and remarks. "So Ezekiel's an interesting individual."

"What makes you say that?" I reply.

She pets my horse and finishes. "He has a crush on you."

I'm not sure what to think exactly. "Crush?"

"You know, when a guy likes you."

I keep my puzzled expression and Merissa smiles back. "You've never had a crush before?"

"I'm not really sure."

I ask Merissa. "What'd you mean 'like?'"

"C'mon Filmlia, don't tell me you don't know what love is."

_How could someone not from my family love me?_ "Just think of someone liking you as a weaker version of love. Love being a stronger version of it. Strong enough to conquer anything."

I remember what my mother told me about love, about how it was one of the Most Powerful Weapons in the World. Aside from Hope and Fear. I didn't know much about it as a kid and I just forgot about it. "Weird that you know about love after, you know."

She makes a smirk back at me and responds back. "Well, I knew before that. My parents taught me that."

"What happened to your mother?"

Her smirk disappears and her eyes begin to get a little watery. I caress her hair and tell her she doesn't have to say it. She thanks me and Trent tells me it's time to mount the chariots. It takes me this long to notice the pin on her dress. "Where'd you get that pin?"

"Trent."

My stomach drops and my heart stops for about three seconds. When my heart beats again, I try to regain my senses and mount the chariots. How'd Trent get access to those? How'd he get away with it? And how long has he had it? Or who gave it to him? The more I learn about Trent, the more I find out there's something about him I should've expected. As we exit into the world and into the sunlight, I turn around to get a last glimpse of Trent. His design on his shirt is familiar almost. I try to think of when I saw him while I was in my dress with the lighting on his black shirt. Could it be a Mockingjay? The pins on the tributes from my district are on everyone's chest. The design is so intricate and so subtle, I have to think about it. I'll have to get a better look of it later. When we exit into the light, I find a stage housing millions of Capitol residents, screaming at us. The other tributes' costumes are all right, but they're not like ours. Then I see District Three. Tech Formal. And it's actually _really_ good, making the crowd shout for more. When our costumes turn on, it radiates through what sunlight there is. Not as bright as I thought it'd be. When our costumes turn on, I look at Mezchi's look. His circuits are pulsing, unlike mine. I look over at Merissa and her terrain-like costume has a hole almost the size of her torso, lighting up like a volcano with streaks of lava going through her costume like my circuits. Ezekiel's look is a white piece of cloth with gridlines on it, glistening in the sunlight. Solar Panel. As we near the stage, people in the crowd go crazy over us. I remember what Trent said and I smile and wave at the crowd. As I turn my head, I catch a glimpse of the dreaded president, Cornelius Snow. I ignore him and wave at the crowd. At the end of our journey, we all circle around a square and stop after everyone is lined up side-by-side. Above us, Snow looks down at us from a balcony. Snow must have a microphone attached to his ear to announce to everyone in this unbelievably vast space. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Let us take in the gratitude of being able to witness the age of a new Hunger Games. Even if it is not a Quarter Quell, there are even more tributes here. I know it's a sad day when the Mockingjay dies, but we all know how terrible it would be if the Hunger Games were to stop."

_Lying. He's lying. Like always. _Everyone knows his secrets, so why does he bother with lying anyways? Because when the Hunger Games are involved, no one bothers to care about it. Or the Capitol really is this stupid. "We shall never forget this momentous occasion. These Games, I promise you, will be the Greatest Yet. And it'll be an example of what's to come."

In that moment, I realize it's not just the number of tributes he's talking about, but the Careers, too. They've been trained even harder and treated better this time around, so they're deliver a better show. And for the Quarter Quells, there's going to be even more people sent to die. It _was _forty-two, now it'll be sixty…

_I have to stop this before it gets any worse. _But how? _What Would Katniss Do?_

We dismount our chariots and find my mentor, stylist; or stylists, and Amaza waiting for District Five across from us. I know Trent, but who are the others? Effie-inspired outfits. Even the male. _What is wrong with these people?_ Trent turns off our costumes and introduces me to the other two stylists. "Meet Mulika Feeming and Gravin Storp."

Mulkia's the male, Gravin's the female. Their figure even resembles Effie. Must be in honor of the Capitol's Hottest Fashion Style. Would've been the Mockingjay, but like it's been said. _All demonstrations or portrayal; visual or in actions, of the Mockingjay, will not be tolerated, and will be met with extreme prejudice. _The other stylists are just as crazy as Effie, too. They exchange kisses on my cheeks and they smile back at me, complimenting me on my costume. One thing I can give them is credit for a beyond amazing dress. As I do, Amaza butts into the conversation, yet again, telling us we're running out of time and have other places to go. I'm beginning to get tired of her and my expression msut show because Wayden exchanges a look at me that shows he feels the same. Or misses his alcohol. "So, what _can_ I think about you?" I ask him.

He chuckles a little, joking. "You tell me."

He leaves the conversation at that, leaving it to my imagination. As we follow Amaza, she leads us to an elevator. During the silence, I decide to ask Amaza a question. She actually lets me finish, but all she says is. "I don't have authority to answer to _'Tributes.'_"

_Tributes._ She uses the word so loosely. And what authority? I look at her jacket and it's the same pattern as Trent's. What I find strange is that Trent, Wayden, Amaza, and my other stylists aren't wearing pins. Do they want us to display the Mockingjay and be the first ones to die in the Games? One way or another, I will find out.


	5. Remake Center & Opening Ceremony

I end up in the back of the train with Merissa. Getting to know each other more. Merissa is the daughter of a man that draws plans for means of bettering the district. Plans like the Dam. Merissa was famous for being the daughter of a man that helped make iconic features for the district. When her father was laid off, he wasn't handling it well, and mistreating his daughter sometimes. Being the only child, she didn't have much to call family after that. I tell her how sorry I am, and she says it's no problem. "One more thing. How do you say your name?"

"Filmlia, like Fil-me-lee-a."

Next thing we know, we see the Capitol. So beautiful. And yet, so corrupt. Full of people starving for more Hunger Games. "Wow." Those words escape mine and Merissa's lips. We reach our stop and we exit the train, remembering we were here with other people. The two boys from our district, Amaza, and Wayden, who is apparently drunk and falls flat on the floor. Ezekiel tries to pry him off the ground, and I help him out. Once Wayden is back on his feet, he seems to wake up from his hangover and takes a second before he snaps back to his senses. "Wayden?" Questions Mezchi. He repeats it again and Wayden looks at us, weirdly. "Where am I?" His voice is different, so is his demeanor and personality.

"The Capitol. We're here for the 76th Hunger Games."

A smile appears on his face and he covers his face with his hand, feeling stupid. "Oh." He goes on to laugh drunkenly.

Must be the fact that he has to help and teach new tributes about what to do in the Games every year and now he doesn't care about what happens. "And I'm sorry about…whatever I did."

Merissa tells him there's nothing to be sorry for, and Amaza interrupts. "Now, if we're done playing catch up again. I suggest we make our way to the Remake Center to prepare for the Opening Ceremony."

_Heartless._ Despite supporting the Games, Effie was more enjoyable. But I guess things changed after the 75th. We follow Amaza's lead and Peacekeepers follow behind us and lead in front of us. Must be because of me. Later on, I find myself naked, washed head to toe with a high-tech shower, distilling a mist that covers me in soap and washing me dry within moments' notice. Next, I'm on a table with people putting something on my body. They tell me this is going to hurt a little, and I think. _What could be so hurtful about paper?_ Then they rip it off my body and I grunt. They show me the paper with three or four hairs. I stare at the paper and a gaudy dressed man with too much plastic surgery that showed me the paper answers the question in my mind. "That's why."

I roll my eyes again and a pink-faced woman remarks. "I saw that."

_Of course you did…_ In these short moments of knowing these two, this is all I want to know. Capitol citizens aren't only starving for the Games, and are out for the next best thing. But are also the strangest people I've ever met. I just hope I get a good stylist like Katniss did. Someone that's not obsessed with looks or age. About an hour into trying to get the hair off my body, I'm told that they need to wash off any remaining hair or filth. The idea sickens me. And annoys me. They already removed the hairs underneath my skin they were so thorough. And they need to do it again. I know I'm wealthy, and that I'm from District Five. This is too much. When I'm washed, I'm led into a room to sit on another table and wait for my stylist. Butterflies fly around in the playground that is my stomach for what seems like an hour. When the door opens up, my stomach twists and I get sick. When the able-bodied man steps out of the door, he looks normal. Human. No makeup anywhere. But also terrifying in the way he walks. He wears a black long-sleeve shirt with intricate designs on it to make it look futuristic. His pants are the same, but not connected to his shirt like I'd have imagined. And his voice is terrifying, too. "Wake up, sunshine."

His voice almost sends chills down my spine. I don't let it show. I sit up and my stylist tells me to relax. And I already was, but I take his advice. He gets in closer to me and introduces himself. "I'm Trent Bourdon. Brother of the Gamemaker this year, Isaac Bourdon."

And he just got creepier. Though, unlike him, I trust that he won't kill me. But there's something about him that shows that he cares. That he'd hate to see anything wrong happen to me. "Don't worry, you're safe around me. I promise."

And unlike anyone from the Capitol, he's not trying to make any weird moves on me or rip hair off of my body. Regardless, I give him a warning. "If you give me a terrible costume, I swear-"

He interrupts. "I won't. If you've seen my work, you'd know I'm one of the best. Like Cinna was. I'm sure you've heard of him."

He grabs hold of my pin and tilts it side-to-side gently. "You're either the bravest girl I've met, or the most suicidal."

"Both."

I reply with a little smile. Trent lets go of my pin and asks me. "What's your job? Out of the ones available?"

"Electricity."

He crosses his arms and gives a weak smile, disappearing almost immediately. "I have something for you then."

He tells me to follow him and he tells me on the way. "When I was chosen for District Five this year, I went through the options of the main functions of the district."

He tells me to stay here while he goes inside a room to bring out a mannequin wearing an electric dress. It's beautiful. More than beautiful. Sleeveless, mini hand-gloves, a wig, a skin-tight, sleek dress with straps down the stomach, attached to the lower half of the dress, and heels. The whole design is black with a dark blue color scheme. I put it all on and when I do, I look at myself in a mirror. I run my fingers through my stomach and I almost jump as the dress and the dark blue lights up. I'm a Tesla Coil. The circuit starts from the heels up, to the dress, in correspondence with the gloves when it reaches a certain height. It continues up the dress and when it finishes it's trail up the dress, it switches course to my wig, lighting up certain strands of my hair. I'm breathless. I had learned about electricity in school, and I was slightly interested in it. Right now, my perspective is changed radically in this one, unique moment. A moment I'll never forget. A gleam of hope knowing I'm going to the Games. Amaza can't be counted on. Wayden is _okay._ Still not sure if I should trust him or not. But Trent is brilliant.

Trent doesn't say anything. And that's fine. He's just looking at my dress like I am. I gaze at myself in the mirror, watching the electricity surge through me. Watching in awe. I begin to crack up when enough time passes and Trent points out. "We should give the power pack some time to recharge."

He turns it off and I agree. "It'll be brighter later on when you're outside in the Opening Ceremony. That was just a minor charge for display reasons. Won't be able to see much in the sunlight with that type of charge."

Without thinking, I go towards him and hug him as tight as I can, thanking him for being a wonderful stylist. I force myself off of him and give him some space. "What about the others?"

"You were the last, so the other female tribute will be wearing something geological related. The males electricity and solar related."

I nod in agreement and he leads me towards the open world. The closer we get, we find the others meeting up with us, coming around the corner. Merissa's costume looks amazing, so does everyone else's. Though, expectedly, Mezchi doesn't have stomach straps like I do. Good thing, too. Merissa pairs with Ezekiel and Mezchi pairs with me. As we approach the chariots, Trent tells us. "Make sure to smile and wave for the crowd. Show the people you love them."

The idea is preposterous but understandable. We do need our Sponsors to help us in the Games; nevertheless, there's the matter of our mentor. If he's still willing to actually _help_ us in the Games. It's not time to mount the chariots just yet and I take this period of time to get to know Mezchi a little more. "So, before we go off into the slaughter, what'd I need to know about you? What with us being in the same district."

He looks at me, but doesn't answer back the way I'd expect him to. "There's not much to know about me."

"There has to be something."

He shakes his head in disagreement. "I'm going to die anyway, so what's it matter?"

He turns his head away from me and I turn away from him. I walk away from him and decide to head to one of the horses, petting it. Merissa joins me and remarks. "So Ezekiel's an interesting individual."

"What makes you say that?" I reply.

She pets my horse and finishes. "He has a crush on you."

I'm not sure what to think exactly. "Crush?"

"You know, when a guy likes you."

I keep my puzzled expression and Merissa smiles back. "You've never had a crush before?"

"I'm not really sure."

I ask Merissa. "What'd you mean 'like?'"

"C'mon Filmlia, don't tell me you don't know what love is."

_How could someone not from my family love me?_ "Just think of someone liking you as a weaker version of love. Love being a stronger version of it. Strong enough to conquer anything."

I remember what my mother told me about love, about how it was one of the Most Powerful Weapons in the World. Aside from Hope and Fear. I didn't know much about it as a kid and I just forgot about it. "Weird that you know about love after, you know."

She makes a smirk back at me and responds back. "Well, I knew before that. My parents taught me that."

"What happened to your mother?"

Her smirk disappears and her eyes begin to get a little watery. I caress her hair and tell her she doesn't have to say it. She thanks me and Trent tells me it's time to mount the chariots. It takes me this long to notice the pin on her dress. "Where'd you get that pin?"

"Trent."

My stomach drops and my heart stops for about three seconds. When my heart beats again, I try to regain my senses and mount the chariots. How'd Trent get access to those? How'd he get away with it? And how long has he had it? Or who gave it to him? The more I learn about Trent, the more I find out there's something about him I should've expected. As we exit into the world and into the sunlight, I turn around to get a last glimpse of Trent. His design on his shirt is familiar almost. I try to think of when I saw him while I was in my dress with the lighting on his black shirt. Could it be a Mockingjay? The pins on the tributes from my district are on everyone's chest. The design is so intricate and so subtle, I have to think about it. I'll have to get a better look of it later. When we exit into the light, I find a stage housing millions of Capitol residents, screaming at us. The other tributes' costumes are all right, but they're not like ours. Then I see District Three. Tech Formal. And it's actually _really_ good, making the crowd shout for more. When our costumes turn on, it radiates through what sunlight there is. Not as bright as I thought it'd be. When our costumes turn on, I look at Mezchi's look. His circuits are pulsing, unlike mine. I look over at Merissa and her terrain-like costume has a hole almost the size of her torso, lighting up like a volcano with streaks of lava going through her costume like my circuits. Ezekiel's look is a white piece of cloth with gridlines on it, glistening in the sunlight. Solar Panel. As we near the stage, people in the crowd go crazy over us. I remember what Trent said and I smile and wave at the crowd. As I turn my head, I catch a glimpse of the dreaded president, Cornelius Snow. I ignore him and wave at the crowd. At the end of our journey, we all circle around a square and stop after everyone is lined up side-by-side. Above us, Snow looks down at us from a balcony. Snow must have a microphone attached to his ear to announce to everyone in this unbelievably vast space. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Let us take in the gratitude of being able to witness the age of a new Hunger Games. Even if it is not a Quarter Quell, there are even more tributes here. I know it's a sad day when the Mockingjay dies, but we all know how terrible it would be if the Hunger Games were to stop."

_Lying. He's lying. Like always. _Everyone knows his secrets, so why does he bother with lying anyways? Because when the Hunger Games are involved, no one bothers to care about it. Or the Capitol really is this stupid. "We shall never forget this momentous occasion. These Games, I promise you, will be the Greatest Yet. And it'll be an example of what's to come."

In that moment, I realize it's not just the number of tributes he's talking about, but the Careers, too. They've been trained even harder and treated better this time around, so they're deliver a better show. And for the Quarter Quells, there's going to be even more people sent to die. It _was _forty-two, now it'll be sixty…

_I have to stop this before it gets any worse. _But how? _What Would Katniss Do?_

We dismount our chariots and find my mentor, stylist; or stylists, and Amaza waiting for District Five across from us. I know Trent, but who are the others? Effie-inspired outfits. Even the male. _What is wrong with these people?_ Trent turns off our costumes and introduces me to the other two stylists. "Meet Mulika Feeming and Gravin Storp."

Mulkia's the male, Gravin's the female. Their figure even resembles Effie. Must be in honor of the Capitol's Hottest Fashion Style. Would've been the Mockingjay, but like it's been said. _All demonstrations or portrayal; visual or in actions, of the Mockingjay, will not be tolerated, and will be met with extreme prejudice. _The other stylists are just as crazy as Effie, too. They exchange kisses on my cheeks and they smile back at me, complimenting me on my costume. One thing I can give them is credit for a beyond amazing dress. As I do, Amaza butts into the conversation, yet again, telling us we're running out of time and have other places to go. I'm beginning to get tired of her and my expression msut show because Wayden exchanges a look at me that shows he feels the same. Or misses his alcohol. "So, what _can_ I think about you?" I ask him.

He chuckles a little, joking. "You tell me."

He leaves the conversation at that, leaving it to my imagination. As we follow Amaza, she leads us to an elevator. During the silence, I decide to ask Amaza a question. She actually lets me finish, but all she says is. "I don't have authority to answer to _'Tributes.'_"

_Tributes._ She uses the word so loosely. And what authority? I look at her jacket and it's the same pattern as Trent's. What I find strange is that Trent, Wayden, Amaza, and my other stylists aren't wearing pins. Do they want us to display the Mockingjay and be the first ones to die in the Games? One way or another, I will find out.


	6. Nightmare

Later that day, we're sent to our rooms to rest. But something goes wrong that night as I sleep. A Nightmare. I imagine I'm in the woods, like the 74th Hunger Games. My clothes tattered, scars on my face, my neck, my hands. A mile-long scar on my left thigh, and tears running down my face, hiding behind a tree. I've always been afraid to display my emotions, let alone to an entire nation live. I turn my head to the left to see Iris watching me, trying to remember who I am. Not accepting who I am. Seeing me break for the first time. I call her name and she gets closer to me, commenting. "I don't know who you are."

She repeats it, and the closer she gets, the louder and more powerful she gets. Without a warning, she's impaled with a staff through the head, spraying blood on my face and my clothes. I scream her name and get on my feet, running away but my steps falter, causing me to fall and hug the ground. My bones are weak. My resolve is gone. I'm hungry. Thirsty. I'm the only tribute left. _Fight_. I think. _Fight._ I force myself to stand up and grab my tattered and scarred bow, with the bloody and guts-filled arrows; chipped edges. I grit my teeth and force myself to keep walking, to keep traversing through the woods. Next thing I know, a fist makes contact with my temple, knocking me to the ground. Looks like a Career. A big one. I try to fight back and the Career grabs my braid, lifting my head up with enough force to think he's pulling out my hair. No, he's using it to keep my head up as he ponds my face in. Just one punch was enough to send me into a daze. To break my nose even more than it already has. The taste of blood horrid in my mouth. Every punch hurts even worse. He mocks me as he kills me with his bare hands, telling me how weak I am, how I never stood a chance, how no one ever loved me. When he's done punching me, my face is messed up to the point where there's blood in my eyes and I have it wipe it away with my hands. The scars disagreeing with the blood, causing me to scream. I use my jacket and when my vision seems to be cleared, the Career is gone. I grab my bow, but it's gone. So are my arrows. And my jacket. _How'd I lose it? I just had it. _Someone strangles me with the jacket, another Career. The same one. Then Ezekiel shows up, a whimsical scepter in his hand. Solar Scepter. As I'm being strangled, I feel the chill of death some more. _Hallucination in a Nightmare._ Ezekiel walks towards me, telling me how much he loves me, how he always has, and before he draws back his scepter, he asks me. "Do you love me?"

The Career still has the jacket strangling me, and squeezes even tighter when Ezekiel impales me with the scepter, in the abdomen. I open my mouth wide as if to scream, but nothing comes out. As the final blow after a hundred it seems, Ezekiel reminds me. "I love you, Filmlia."

Chopping my head off and I wake up screaming, out of breath, screaming until I can't stand the sound of my voice anymore. Until I lose my voice. My body shaking it's so tense. Shaking to a point where I feel my spine pop in five different places. After what seems like hours and hours of screaming bloody murder, I lean back onto my pillow. I look at my clock and see it's nine-thirty. I went to bed at like ten. My night was spent in that nightmare, and it lasted that long? I barely got any sleep either because of the nightmare. I'm panting and wait for someone to come through the door, to comfort me. All I see is a closed door.

I must've screamed the way I did because I keep my emotions bottled up inside. Seventeen years of it. And there's bound to be even more during the Games. And I'm going to die. I know it. My mind goes to where the location of the Games will be this year. What kind of disadvantage will I have? What advantage, if any, will I have? I hear six knocks on the door, Amaza. She orders me to wake up and, like my dream, I force myself up and change into the necessary clothes for the day that my crew had given me. They told me today was Training Day. _Perfect. Because I really want to meet the people trying to kill me today._


	7. Training Center

I reunite with my fellow tributes that are on my side, for now. I want _them_ to kill me because I won't do it. If it comes down to it, I probably would. I wouldn't have a problem with the others. I put up some targets pinned on trees back at home for Archery practice. Sometimes moving and firing my arrows, sometimes practicing combat with Iris. But I'll most likely be considered outmatched compared to the Careers who, as always, are trained better than everyone else. An unfair advantage. And because of their districts trying to stop the Rebellion, they've been treated even better. I wouldn't be surprised. As soon as I enter the Training Center, I'm welcomed by Careers, who's physical fitness went beyond my expectations, are doing battle with each other with real weapons. On platforms or even the ground. Other people making traps, sharpening weapons, and some vomiting on the floor. And some crying in a corner. They're accompanied by obstacles with a prowess higher than that of a Gymnast. Or someone with strategy that can maneuver between them to avoid a moving object. I look at my friends, if I could call them that, and ask. "So, what'd we do first?" I say with a hint of concern and fear in my voice. "You tell me." Answers Ezekiel. Despite his size and figure, he's concerned, too. Which is odd. Mezchi is already making his way to the Weapons Area and Merissa heads to the traps. Ezekiel goes somewhere else, and I follow Mezchi. On the way to Mezchi, who is looking at a knife, tilting it here and there, puts is back and looks at the other weapons. I feel sorry for Mezchi. Every attempt to get to know him better has failed. But I refuse to believe it. On the way to the Weapons Area, I look to my right and see a male doing Archery in a separate room. Three other tributes are already watching him. Can't identify them really. The male is all right. Unscathed, but all right. He had some close calls firing at some holographic projections with other various weapons. When the simulation is over, the tributes watching disperse and go back to their areas. The male doesn't look happy, purposefully bumping into me and barking back at me infuriatingly. "Watch it, will ya!?"

_Nice to see you, too._ I think. Before I head into the glass room, I look around for anything else that catches my eye and an axe whizzes past me, finding it's home in the wall. I look at the Career who threw it. He's laughing at it. He makes his way to me and jerks the axe out of the wall like it was paper. District 7, I assume. I take the responsibility of calling him Joker. Because everything is a joke to him. Something must've caused him to snap. Someone that he couldn't live without probably died in the Games. Horrible living conditions. Bad childhood. Or all of the above.

Amaza and Wayden, weird that it was Wayden involved this time, gave me a rundown of my schedule leading up to the Games, and told me about the show with Caesar Flickerman, someone who interviews you, to get to know you better. Wayden must be giving into the fact that he has to try harder this time. To actually help the tributes after giving up so many times. As for Caesar, I don't know what I'm going to do when Joker gets up on stage. I also think it's going to be worse in the Games. I just hope he doesn't eat people's corpses or get too gruesome. But I have a feeling, he'll do it. With Caesar, I'll know something about Mezchi for once. That is to say he'll say anything useful.

I look again at the Archery Room and decide to look around more. To, by some oddity, find some people I can call "allies" of the sorts. Forty-two tributes, and three are on my side so far. I go to a knot-tying area and see a tall, District Eleven Female making traps. I watch her, not announcing myself as I watch her do her job. Not interrupting her. I squat down to her level, watching. She has a pair of ropes next to each other with the ropes connected to each other covered in leaves or anything of the like, and when someone walks over them, the two ropes leave someone dangling over the air. Open for a strike. When she's done, she looks up from her work and sees me, a little embarrassed. I reassure. "No, I think it's good."

She smiles back and comments. "Thanks."

I sit down because my legs are getting tired and cross my legs. She looks to be sixteen. She introduces herself with a shake of the hand. "Eura Weltz."

I shake her hand and reply back. "Filmlia Treen. District 5."

And like that, I have an ally. At least, I hope so. "So, what weapon do you use?" I ask.

"I don't use weapons."

I appear confused. "Why did you make the trap?"

"So someone else could get them."

It makes sense, to say the least. But I remember something. "What if they have a weapon to cut the rope?"

"I'll be gone before they can get me."

District Eleven. Trees. Judging by her muscles, she's been on trees for a while. Moving from branch to branch. Reminds me of Rue. Innocent, helpless Rue. But an older, stronger version. And who's only expertise is making traps. "What can you do?"

When she asks that, she looks at my braid and finishes. "Archery?"

I nod in agreement and I wait for her to tell me how wrong it is it display the Mockingjay in public, but instead she reacts the way Gabby did. "Good."

I smile back. "Thanks. I gotta go explore the other choices, so I'll see you around?"

"Sure."

She gets her ropes back and restarts the trap, getting used to how to do it. Repetition. I hear a Career shout at me, calling me crude names and people on-hand around the Training Center try to detain him. I recognize him. The Career in my dream. He's just like I imagined him. I stare at him in fear and try to shake it from my mind, and I can't. Waking up earlier today in a cold, frightening sweat has weakened me. And that's the _last_ thing I need right now. Not when the Games are coming up.

I walk around some more, expanding my horizons, and find the camouflage area empty, aside from the male who gets up from the ground. _Interesting._

I try to remember what I was taught at school about the other districts, going through the functions, excluding the ones I already know. Five, Eleven, Seven. District Three, Electronics. My function, Electricity. We could work something out there. If they're willing to cooperate. One thing, though. There are too many people to look to. Not like I can look everyone's shoulder for their district number forever. Before I notice it, it's time to break for lunch. My mind has been so focused on making allies and trying to find out what to do, I lost track of time. At the Cafeteria, I reunite with Eura and sit at a large table, with a plate of foods I've never even seen before. But when I take my first bite of the soup, I'm in love. Eura bumps me with her elbow in the side. I'm too busy stuffing myself with the soup to notice her that well. "Not so fast. You won't be able to enjoy it."

I ignore her again and keep slurping the soup. "You look like you haven't eaten in years." She continues. I tell myself to stop and get a napkin to wipe off the residue on my lips. And my pants…

"Sorry, hey." I say, embarrassed. I look around the table for the first time and see my other allies are paired with other people. Mezchi isn't talking to anyone. Merissa is chatting with some people from districts Nine and Eight. A natural gift to be likeable, I guess. And Ezekiel is talking with people from Three. Not sure about what with all the chatter and the noise all round us. The voices. Silverware against plates. It's good Ezekiel is chatting with Three, probably had me in mind. It doesn't help he was in my nightmare. With Three and Eura's traps, and if I could make it work, we could work together to make an electric trap. Like Beetee in one of the Games. "No problem. I love the food, too."

As she goes on to eat her food ravenously. Not worrying about table manners. And I have no room to talk either. I ask her. "How much do you eat at Eleven?"

I examine her figure. Strong, but frail. Like she seems to be strong, but I can almost see the definition in her bones on her hands. "Not much."

I remember how, in the 74th Games, Rue said to Katniss she doesn't have much to eat. And for someone older, taller, stronger than Rue, she works harder and has little to go with it. I look at Eura's plate, which has seven lumps of exotic food and she just finished her first one. Not caring about a napkin like I did. I remark. "I'm sorry, Eura."

She swallows a big bite. "Why?"

She ends up choking and she makes hand gestures at me to show she's fine. Finishing. "About that I don't eat much? Filmlia, don't be."

We smile back and she comments. "You're great for someone that I'll have to kill in the arena."

My heart drops. I completely forgot. Heartbreak surfaces. Eura sees my expression and covering my emotions has been harder since the nightmare. Iris really will see me break. "Don't worry. We're all afraid."

Later that day, me and my district go to the Living Quarters in the Training Center with our escort and mentor. It's an all right apartment. But it's manageable. Mezchi goes off in an opposite direction everyone else is going and I ask the others if they know what's wrong with him. "He says it's nothing." Answers Ezekiel. _Nothing._ _He has nothing to talk about. And he literality has "nothing." _I look at the room Mezchi went into, closing the door and probably locking it. Feeling sorry for him. A lump makes way inside my throat, expanding. _I know how you feel, Mezchi._

There was this one time in District Five where there was an electrical shortage, and we had to rely on hunting as a means of sustenance. People were relying wholly on electricity as a primary means of resource, since pretty much the entire district put their faith in appliances. But hunting was against the rules, so no one did it. Every now and then, I would do it. Giving into the impulse that I needed to do something survive. Bringing it back home with the help of Iris who had learned about wildlife where she is on the mountains. At school. And with her help, we worked together. Keeping each other alive. But one day she got caught up in caring for her family and I tried to replicate her methods of skinning and preparing wildlife. When I encountered a big bear, I tried to kill it and remembered how much I actually knew so far. I was famished, and I couldn't make it back home. I collapsed onto the ground, lying there for hours. I wasn't within reach of anyone. I forced myself past the initiations a human could stand, and I was unable to last very long. I blacked out and woke up in an Apothecary Center with iris and my family around me. The doctors had nursed me back to help and Iris told me that she was looking everywhere for me when I wasn't at our regular spots. She found me and brought me back home. I had been where I was for about four days, dead to the world. I had nothing. And I don't even want to explain what happened when I was dead…

"Filmlia?"

I snap back to my senses and I see Ezekiel standing over me in my bed, rocking me awake. I had went to my bed without thinking. "Filmlia?"

I awake and I ask Ezekiel. "What?"

"It's time to eat."

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"Six hours."

_Six hours? _Ezekiel must see the expression on my face and tells me he'll help me out of bed. "How?" I ask. Ezekiel peels away the covers and carries me in his arms, carrying me to the table like a princess. I'm blown away by this demonstration of kindness, not knowing what to think. Wayden laughs at us. Ezekiel playfully tells him to shut up. And Wayden laughs even more. Amaza is unfazed, but everyone else is smiling, too. Good that we're bonding so well already. Ezekiel sets me down and pulls up a chair for me as I thank him. His parents must've taught etiquette, or picked it up from the Capitol residents. I hear a barking noise. Mulika apologies. "Oh, sorry. That's my dog."

"Why would you bring a dog?" Implies Merissa.

Mulika begins to chuckle again. "Oh, why not?"

Gravin answers. "A fashion statement for your fashion statement!"

I roll my eyes again, and Wayden breaks the silence that follows after a while. "All right, so how was Day One of Training?"

Mezchi doesn't answer. Merissa does, though. "Oh, it was great. Got to learn about traps, and made some allies with District Eight and Nine."

Wayden raises his glass. "Very good." He takes a drink and Ezekiel adds on. "I learned about edible plants and some weapons, and allied some people from Three."

Wayden compliments him and raises his glass again, now his eyes turn to me. "Learned a trap and allied with someone from Eleven."

Wayden's reaction isn't as great, but he still compliments me. "We'll work on that. Mezchi?"

Mezchi ignores him and he calls his name again. "It didn't matter what I did."

Wayden sets his glass down and everyone reacts in shock. Mezchi actually said something. And it wasn't anything good. "So you spent your time doing-"

"Yes, I did nothing. Nothing! I'm going to die anyway!"

I shoot back at Mezchi with fury. "Don't say that, Mez! You're better that that! I'm not going to let you die in that Arena and have you die without some hope out there!"

Mezchi strikes back, equally furious. "Why's it matter to you, huh? You're just a Katniss from another district."

"Yes, I am. I'm also someone who'd kill to show you that you have something, in the least, to die for."

Mezchi tries to prove me wrong and I interrupt. "You think you're the _only_ one who felt this way?"

He looks at me, confused. "We're all here for a reason. And even if we were to die in the Games, just know we'll be there for you every step of the way."

Everyone looks at me, even Amaza. Her stern expression has shifted a little. She does have a heart. Merissa agrees with me, and so does Ezekiel, after enough time passes. Mezchi doesn't say anything afterwards and Wayden shatters the quiet again. "So, I should say something."

"What?" I ask.

Wayden finishes his drink and goes forth with his statement. "That the reason I didn't make a great first impression is because I got tired of trying to help people win the Games."

So I was right after all. "And the reason why I'm trying this year, is because,"

He leans in closer to the edge of the table, waving his finger at me, Merissa, Ezekiel, and Mezchi. "I have a feeling that something different is going to happen this time around. That one of you will exit those Games a winner. And we all know that there can only be one winner."

Me and the other tributes pause for a moment, looking around as Wayden prolongs his statement. "I'm going with a gut feeling that I believe you four have potential."

He looks dead on in Mezchi's eyes. "…Even you."

He asks an Avox for a refill of his drink and she leaves the room to get more. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and Amaza compliments him. "Well, this is a turn of events. Thank you, Wayden."

"You're welcome."

They react to each other like they've known one another forever. So does Trent. Capitol Residents, anyways. But me and the others stare at Amaza in shock. Amaza doesn't open up about her feelings, and all she says the whole night is what she said to Wayden. Aside from telling our schedule again. That night, I have another nightmare. Me in my district. In my house. I see myself in a mirror. Flawless skin. Flawless figure. Stronger than normal. I imagine myself going to the Capitol again to train tributes from District Five. Imagining I'm a mentor. Telling them that one of them will make it out alive. I imagine I watch them train. Learn new skills. Strategies. And when they enter the Games, I watch their gruesome and ruthless deaths on screen. Me becoming a drinker. Living alone in my Victor's Village. Wallowing out the rest of my life in ruin in despair. Years upon years, I'm forced to help tributes win the Games. Forced to tell them they can make it. Forced to watch their deaths over and over. I turn insane and I don't know what to do with myself. I isolate myself from the world, hiding somewhere they'll never find me. Digging my own grave and hiding inside it, chanting Ezekiel's name. Merissa's. Gabby's. My mother's. Mezchi's. Wayden's. Trent's. Iris's. Rocking myself to sleep as I scream. Suffocating under the pile of dirt, losing my breath and dying a slow, horrible, lonely death. My last words being, "I Failed All of You."

I wake up screaming in a cold sweat again, shouting no repeatedly instead of terror. I wait for someone to come again and it's useless. I lie back down onto my pillow and look at the clock. It wasn't as long as the last one, but it was worse. I stuff my face into the pillow, crying myself to sleep and grabbing the pillow with an iron grip. I whisper to myself. "You're stronger than this."

My voice cracks and my words fail me. I hit the bed with my fist, as hard as I can, shouting into the pillow. "You're better than this! Wake up!"

My body racks in the pain, the suffering, and I force myself to hold my breath for ten seconds, thinking to myself to relax. To remember why you're here. When I exhale, I come out gasping for air and I think I almost popped a vein. Ezekiel comes into the bedroom and asks. "What's wrong? I heard screams."

When I turn my face to him, he sees my cheeks soaked with tears. Out of breath. My body displaying heartbreak. In a cold sweat from head-to-toe. "Just a nightmare. It was nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

He closes the door and walks closer towards me, getting in bed with me, getting under the covers, wrapping me in his arms. "You don't have to lie to me, Fil."

As I feel the comfort of someone, the tears seem to almost stop just like that. They turn into tears of excitement. Of joy. I feel a sensation run through my body, a sense of need. But for what? "I'm here for you."

He wipes away a tear and I don't know what to think of this action. Only my mother wiped away my tears, and that was only because I was a kid then. So little, so fragile. "Thank you, Zeke." I answer back. Mez. Zeke. Fil. Rissa. You know you're bonding with people when they give you and others nicknames, and you give others nicknames. Zeke chuckles a little and it makes me chuckle, too. "You know, at first, I looked at you as weak. I've been wrong before."

I laugh at the idea of a new nickname. "The Girl Who Snapped?"

"Maybe."

Zeke points out an alternative. "The Girl With the Spark."

Electric dress. The Pin. The Braid. Even electricity has sparks. _Every revolution begins with a spark. _He trails his finger down my braid. "Surprised someone hasn't killed you yet for displaying the Mockingjay."

"They will. In the Games."

We don't say much afterwards, and we drift off into sleep. And I sleep without a nightmare. This is the best I've ever slept. Ever. I usually sleep by myself, and I'm not used to sleeping with the comfort of someone else to keep the horrors away. The next day, we wake up together with Amaza knocking on the door. She's beating harder than usual. We must've slept harder than we thought. We wake up and it's accompanied by yawns and stretches. Zeke tells me good morning and I say it back. I never did ask him why he has a crush on me. Is it me wanting to be the Mockingjay? Or that he finds me attractive? Or that I'm not like everyone else?

Zeke goes back to his room to change, and I change in mine. When we revisit the Training Center, everyone goes back to where they were last time and I head to the Archery Room without hesitation. I go inside the glass room and as I touch the Bow and Arrows, I feel my senses amplified. Like an Expert Hunter. Some days, as I was practicing Archery or playing around, that'd be all I'd do when I wasn't eating. And during the Electrical Shortage, it was in higher demand for me that I learn Archery better, so I took mental notes from someone who had been hunting one day for the same reasons. After the power had come back on, we had kept practicing and Iris joined in eventually after I had told her what I was doing one day.

I type in a code on a console and I step on a platform. The Archery Room is spacious, and gives me a lot of room to move around. Which I like. As I step on the platform, the code I typed in starts to kick in as a female voice booms over the speakers. "Commencing Augmented Reality Training. Initiating Round One: Intermediate Mode."

The metallic room switches to that of a forest and orange lights emerge from the walls, about fifteen of them, forming holographic versions of tributes big and small. When I fire my Bow and Arrow at them, they collapse to the floor in orange bits. Without looking, I fire a at tribute from behind me. I sense someone walking on a higher level, and I position my bow and ready my arrow, ready to takedown the tribute before he disappears behind a wall. Intermediate Level was more childish than I expected. I hear the voice that says it's beginning Expert Mode. The beams generate tributes at a slightly faster rate this time, and I'm fine with that. I fire my arrows here and there, almost flawlessly transitioning from point to point with ease as my senses are increased. I get up close and personal with a tribute and as he throws a punch, I jab his eye with an arrow and deliver attacks of my own with my bow and arrows, finishing with a kick to the ground, shattering him. I retrieve my arrow and I sense someone running towards me, quickly readying my arrow to fire to shoot the staff away from me, thwarting its path and attempt to impale me with a fake weapon. Next arrow goes to the throat, and another to shatter him. There were fifteen last round, thirty this time. And Challenger Mode is forty-five. I steel myself for this round and the beams project tributes at a rate exponentially faster than expected. I blink, and twenty more are projected. I take a deep breath and exhale with releasing an arrow, transitioning, aiming, firing, breathe, repeat. That's my strategy right now. I get in close quarters combat with about six tributes at once while others are up higher, with others in the distance. I go into overdrive and try my best to survive, taking out the tributes. Jabbing them with my arrows. I catch an arrow from above and shoot it back to sender. I decide to back out of the confined space of people and fire at them. Someone generates behind me and puts me in a headlock. I jab her eyes repeatedly and watch bits of her fall to the ground. I roll out of the way of a tribute falling from above and attempting to knock me down, but fails.

The tributes keep coming, and I look at the numbers on the walls. Twenty-four. Twenty-four being the numbers of tributes I've taken out so far. And in Challenger Mode, the tributes are constructed to react to attacks accordingly and have the same durability as an average tribute, and almost to that of a Career. All forty-five of them. Needless to say, there are forty-two this year. As the battle goes on, I have to move faster, smarter, and hit harder. It isn't Challenger Mode just for the fun of scaring the crap out of you. But to scare you straight. I would question why they don't do this for other weapons, but I had totally forgotten about the other weapons available. And the Careers think they have enough training they don't need this type of practice. And I wouldn't be surprised. I watched them fight yesterday, and they fought better than I'd ever dream of. Something tells me the designers of this training sector put in the programming of the skills of recent Careers, or slightly better Careers. And not this year's so you can die in the Arena. I'd expect no less from the Capitol.

As the battle continues, I'm victorious. I almost didn't believe I'd make it out. I don't care if this _was_ an Augmented Reality Training Session. I allow myself five seconds of triumph and laugh at my success, laughing at how I managed to come out on top. When the five seconds are up, I put the weapons back and I see everyone has formed to see my Archery Skills. With faces ranging from frazzled to perplexed, to excited to complete shock. Later that night, Rissa and Zeke tell Wayden they did the same thing. Mezchi practiced with someone with an axe, and it wasn't the Joker. If it were, I'd obviously believe that he'd kill him before the Games even started and allied with Nine. I tell Wayden about happened to _me _at Lunch earlier today. About how half of the tributes were begging to ally with me. Twelve, Eleven, Ten, and Nine. A food fight broke out in the Cafeteria over who could ally with me and some Peacekeepers were on hand to detain the tributes. The place would've been something the rotten Careers threw up if the Peacekeepers hadn't reacted so fast. And there would've been more than just food being spilled.

Wayden raises his glass to me and takes it as a victory, drinking to it. Amaza is disgusted by it. Amaza is turning out to be a strange person the more I meet her. After a certain period of time, Trent announces that he and the other stylists have been working on the costumes for the interview with Caesar Flickerman. It'll have the same theme as the ones from the Opening Ceremony, but with a different design. I try not to imagine myself in the new dress since I want to be surprised again. I sleep with Zeke again and while we sleep, and before fade into our dream worlds, I ask Zeke. "Why do you have a crush on me?"

Zeke snickers. "Because you're strong. You're smart. You're skilled. And because you believe."

I turn so I can see him face-to-face. I smile the biggest I've ever smiled, thanking him as he continues. "And I mean it."

_Zeke, the Boy with the Heart. Rissa, the Girl Misunderstood. Mez, the Boy with Nothing. _Mez may just be pulling a Johanna Mason. Acting one way and then acting completely different in the Games. I'll have to find out for myself. Zeke must mean I believe that we'll make it out alive. It's hard to, but somehow I think it's true. Zeke squeezes me a little tighter as I'm in his arms, like I'm in a trap, waiting to be killed. This is a different trap. A trap where you're waiting for something to happen that ends up being good. "I won't rush this. It'll be better if we take our time."

"Yeah."

I rest my head on his chest, commenting. "Thank you for caring."

Zeke caresses my hair, sliding down my spine and stopping midway, sliding back up. "Though, do you ever wish you could make a moment last longer?"

I whisper back. "I do."

I slide my hands across his ribs, and I know I shouldn't, but I do it anyway. "I love you."

Zeke snickers again, whispering back. "Love you, too."

The next day is a repeat and then the day after that, it's time to demonstrate our individual skills.


	8. Caesar Flickerman

Caesar has been noted to be a man able to give people hope, and to help ease people's nerves. He agrees with the tributes. It may just be a lie, but I'll have to find out for myself. I'm in a room with my main stylist, Trent, trying on the new dress. I can feel the tingles coming off of it it's so live. But it's harmless to me. "What'd you think of this one?"

Trent, I've seen, only wears one thing. The clothes I saw him in. The only Capitol resident that does that, I've observed. I can hear Caesar's voice echoing through this membrane of a changing area. Either he's really loud, or his microphone is. His voice resonating with excitement. It's almost contagious. Almost. "WELCOME! Welcome!"

He bursts out into a laugh, recovering, then continuing. "How excited are you all for a new Age of,"

He has a certain way that he says, _Hunger Games._ I'm just going to assume he'll laugh after every sentence he says. Least he's not throwing axes at me. I take a long look at my dress. It looks as if it's tighter this time around, no gloves, but a corsage with a flower, electricity bouncing off of it. My wig lighting up again, this time, sparks flying off of it. Harmless sparks, he notes. My eyelashes glimmer, so does my makeup that lights up on my face. Dark blue sparkles. Circuits on my heels that just go through a given path through the heels and not up my dress. The circuits on my dress sparking up and down. Caesar continuing to monologue as he talks about the show before everyone gets on stage to sit with him. He's on a television screen I can watch him in the room. He's wearing a bright red suit with yellow sparkles on it. Even his face and hair is made to compliment his suit. In honor of the Mockingjay. How come _he's _not being gunned down? Must be he's a lovable man. He's going to love my pin then. Trent has kept my hairstyle. Caesar and I will get along just fine then. Makes me feel a little better. I've kept Trent waiting long enough, so I compliment him in the best voice I can. "It's perfect, Trent."

Trent has become than a stylist. A friend. A trustworthy individual that I'll die for. I get a lump in my throat and he gives me some advice. "Thank you. Now remember some word of advice. Make yourself presentable out there. People will be watching you, and they may even be your sponsors. Remember to make yourself memorable. And don't be nervous around Caesar, trust me,"

He holds the pin in his hands, remarking. "You and him will be like brother and sister."

The comment makes me laugh, and my laughter makes him snicker. "You both have a spark about you."

He's right, of course. I'm told that I'll stay out here for a little longer until it's time for me to go out onto the stage. I watch the interviews and Caesar really does ease the nerves. His charismatic nature makes me like him even more. Obviously the Careers would suck up for sponsors. District Three is more distinguished, and still have their Tech Formal. One female has such an alluring dress that Caesar keeps looking at it, and then iOS Madden, the female, gets up from her chair, clapping her dress to life as it lights up at the bottom of her dress and her sleeves, and on her neckline. The strips of light alternate colors from bright green, yellow, red, and orange. She claps three times now and her costume splits in two with strips of light. Going down the middle of her dress and up, continuing it's cycle when it finishes. A male, Fitz Topher, has tech goggles on with transparent lenses. He goes to say how it displays a HUD, tapping his ear piece the goggle connects to and displays a real Heads Up Display. Trent even compliments him on the stylist's work, though we don't know who he or she is. Another tribute from Three hacks the sound system with a gauntlet and talks into it like a speaker. Caesar really seems to be enjoying himself tonight, and so are the other tributes. Trent tells me to get ready to go out onto the stage and I do. What nerves I had before and when I came here have all but faded by now. When Caesar calls my name, I step out of the corner and onto the stage, taking Caesar's soft hands as he greets me with a giant smile on his face. He doesn't always laugh, and sometimes he switches from excited to calm to caring from the drop of a hat. Which is what I've seen from watching the other tributes. "Now, Filmlia, did I say that right? I wasn't sure when I was reading your scare last night."

"You said it right."

I smile back at him and Caesar taps my nose. "Good. Wouldn't want to disappoint that adorable little face of yours."

He goes to laugh and I laugh for his sake. Making myself memorable. And since I'm only playing around, I keep watching him to know when to stop laughing or to stop acting a certain way. He looks at my pin and my braid and compliments me. "See? Look at my jacket! Just look at it."

He tells the audience to join in and when he's had his fun, he goes back to me. "Now. I'm displaying the Mockingjay _before _the Rebellion. The one that blazed our way into our hearts. Am I right?"

I nod in approval. "The Girl On Fire. And my, my."

He fans himself with his hand vigorously. "You are on _fire_, too!"

He laughs to the crowd, waiting for a cheer and turns back to me. We are getting along like brother and sister. "And I know you're not exactly in a fire dress, but you're the buzz of the Capitol so far. Aside from District Three, that is."

He smiles a little. "The Girl With the Spark, is it?"

"Yes."

He makes a smirk at me. "Well, Katniss would be proud. Now, tell me. Does that dress have any special capabilities?"

He asks if my dress shoots out electricity like a Tesla Coil. And by that, I should say yes. _Harmless Sparks. Don't worry._ I think a little on it. _Make yourself memorable._ I take a deep breath, exhaling with the sweet, seductive words of "yes." Caesar begins to have a giggle fit and tells me to do it. I look for my stylist in the audience, and as I spread my arms out, my dress can be heard charging up. And then, my dress fires electricity here and there. Harmless, like I'd hoped. Whenever it touches someone, it more or less tickles them. Caesar's really enjoying this more than _I _thought he would, too. When the lightshow is over, Caesar calls for the crowd to congratulate her stylist, and they're already doing it before he asks. People are standing up, clapping. Some climbing over chairs to get to me. Caesar can't get a hold on the crowd and then I see Trent in the crowd, in the front seats. The power goes out on my dress. I guess he turned it off. I say my goodbyes to Caesar with the trademark kiss behind the cheeks, and walking off stage. _That'll sell it._ Mulika and Graven congratulate me on a job well done, and I tell them they should be congratulating themselves. "Oh, no! No, no, it was all you! That dress is alive because of you." Giggles Gravin.

I head out into the lobby as they wait for their other, _"Lucky Tributes," _of my district. I decide to sit in a couch in front of a television screen to get off my feet, to watch the remainder of the interviews. Rissa is next. She's wearing a darker suit this time with a smaller hole that would symbolize the volcano. This time, there are more holes around her costume. Her hair is made to compliment it, too. Dark hair with pulsing lava. _Molten rock. _Caesar tries not to touch her because the lava looks so real.

They talk about the dress, his tuxedo, and how they're one and the same. Rissa talks about her job as a Geologist, and I remember Iris. _I hope you can see this, Iris. You'd love it._ I smile at the thought of her. Thought of how she's safe. For now. In the least, she has to be. So would my family. They can't kill them now. Now when _I'm_ about go to the slaughterhouse myself. I wonder what the Arena will be this year. They've been teasing the Woods, and so have my nightmares. Things are bound to change, I can tell. What changes there'll be for a New Age of Games. My mind goes to Mutts, and if it means there'll be everywhere this time, and not just spawned. So you'll have to avoid them _and_ the tributes all at once. And try to hide somewhere where the Mutts won't kill you in your sleep before the tributes do. I get a chill down my spine at the thought. Snow may know exactly what it takes to strike fear into people thinking they even have a chance of rebelling against him again. I start thinking to myself that I'll make it out alive. Make it out to stop him, and have a talk to him myself when he gives me my crown for being a Victor. I _have_ to win the Games. For Katniss. For my family. For the sake of hundreds upon hundreds of people, losing hope in a dying world stuck in repeat. Year after year, more Games, and more people die. Nothing ever changes. I have to ensure that I'll change that. _Every revolution begins with a spark. Even if you're not the Girl On Fire._

After the interviews, we reunite back at the Apartment and our Mentor and Escorts meet with us in the center of the building. "You four looked amazing tonight." Compliments Wayden. "Now, tomorrow are the Games. So, it was nice knowing all of you."

His tone reflects emotion. And he means it. He's changed so much. And he has tried this time. Amaza opens up. "And I know I haven't exactly been a joy to be around, but business is business. I hope to see one of you after the Games."

This takes us by surprise, but not Wayden. We all gather for a group hug, and later that night, I sleep with Zeke again. In the morning, Wayden explains what's going to happen. The whole group will be flying with us so we can fly to our designated location for the Games. Amaza, Wayden, Trent, and the other stylists are going to accompany us and be there when we get into the Launch Room, staying with us until we go into the Games. When that happens, we're on our own. When we get in the hovercraft, we take our seats and a Peacekeeper walks by, inserting trackers into my arms. I wince as I have a needle inside me and I'm not even in the Games yet. I'm not used to having needles in me. Not a lot of us say much on the way there except who's going with who. I'm going with Trent. Next thing I know, I'm in the Launch Room. Trent dresses me up in leather boots with and thermals with holes at the shoulders, the sides of my elbows, my chest. Pulsing light blue. _Ice…_ Trent tells me they're Thermal Indicators. It'll possibly keep you warm during the day and night. The thought makes me shudder. You'll need it during the _day,_ too? Usually it'd be hot during the day, cold at night. Now it'll be cold at day, even colder at night. My guess is that they'll drop us off in a Frozen Tundra, like they've done before in one of the Games. Only this time, it's bound to be different.

I hug Trent as tight as I can, getting a feel of his body for when I need it. I made sure to do the same with Zeke last night. My chin rests on his shoulder, and I grit my teeth, trying to keep from crying in front of him. "Thank you for all that you do."

"No, thank you for being a wonderful person."

I'm about to start crying and then Cladius announces twenty seconds to launch. We remove ourselves from the hug and he reminds me. "Don't forget about that pin of yours."

I shake my head in approval, and he lands a kiss on my cheek. A real one. Tingles surge throughout my body. I've never been kissed by anyone not a family member. But the cheek is fine. I wonder what tingles I'll feel when someone kisses me on the lips. "See you after the Games."

"You too."

I step into the launch pod and the pod closes. "Ten seconds to launch."

We look at each other through the glass, and as I'm lifted up, I see the last of his face. His shirt. The right lighting. A careful eye. I spot the design on his shirt is a Mockingjay in flight. Unscathed. My stomach clenches up. My Escort, my Mentor, Stylists; they all had it somewhere on their clothes. And it was always black. Pitch black. The design with a lighter shade of black, but barely noticeable. Didn't want anyone else to notice. A Rebel Plan. As I'm lifted into the Arena, I'm still trying to catch my breath and my suit turns on. The elevator has evidence of frost build-up on the sides, and I'm not even inside the Games yet. And when I am. It _is_ a Frozen Tundra. The chill bumps on my face eventually face as my suit attempts to defrost my chilling body. Cladius counts down from twenty and I observe the Arena from where I am. I'm at a disadvantage because the Cornucopia is facing the other way, and I can't see what's inside it. I'm looking at the tail. The stepping plates are closer together than usual. _More tributes._ I think. _Ten. _I ready myself to hit the ground running off this plate. I look around more and then I look down…

Frozen water. And in the distance, I see a shark swimming underneath. Five, six, seven, ten of them. My heart drops and I feel chills down my spine, almost freezing me in place. _Nine._ More tributes than the average Games. Sharks underneath the water. I hear a wolf howling in the distance. There's going to be polar bears here. Mutts, more like. The Frozen Tundra with genetically-enhanced animals made to look terrifying. Made to scare the crap out of you. And it's working. _Eight. _I take a deep breath. _Seven._ I clench my fists with an unbreakable grip. _Six. _I grit my teeth. _Five._ I squat a little lower to my plate, ready to launch off. _Four._ I take more breaths. _Three. _I see a shark nearing the plates. _Two._ Closer, closer. Is it going to pop out of the ice and swallow her whole? _One._ I think. _You can do this._ And without further adieu, Cladius announces the Games have begun. Just as soon as I launch off my plate, a shark pops out of the water and eats a tribute.

Everyone freezes in their steps. Trying to take in what just happened. Everyone watching this will be quieter than a corpse. I clasp my lips with my mouth, shaking the thoughts of fear from my mind, and thinking to myself. _Let the Games begin, Filmlia. Let. Them. Begin. Sincerely, President Snow._


	9. The 76th Hunger Games

By some force, I manage to shake the thoughts from my head. But only for a short time. The other tributes are taking my lead. I head to the front of the Cornucopia and step on top of the frozen lake, every now and then looking downwards for the sharks. One pops out in front of me and I almost lose my footing. He almost nicked my boots. _Run. Run. Run. _I move out of the way of the gaping hole the shark just made and continue on my course. I duck when the District Twelve boy fires an arrow at me. The one who was training in the Archery Room the first day at Training. _I'll take your bow and arrows, please. _I try to get to him before the sharks do. Another shark pops out of the ground, eating another tribute. I get to the boy with the arrows and he doesn't know how to fight with them like I do. I leap forward to get in arms reach of him, grabbing his arrow and punching him in the face, breaking his nose and then I knee him in the stomach as hard as I can twice. Next to follow, I kick him to the ground and kick him to his back, grabbing his quiver and his bow, firing at him and finishing him off. _Just the weapons I need._ I think about retreating to the wilderness, away from the lake and I hear Rissa screaming. I rush to her aid and she's battling two Careers. I'm about to fire an arrow at one of their eyes when someone clocks me from behind with their fists. It takes a moment to regain my senses and Fitz, the guy from Three with the Tech Goggles, comes to my aid and knocks down the tribute for me. He gets out of the way and I fire an arrow at the other tribute's eyes. I retrieve my arrow and shake my arrows to slide off the eyes stuck on there, using it again. I cringe at the thought. And even more when I do it. Rissa's not going to last long. But luckily, I fire an arrow at the Career's shoulders that render them inoperable. "Nerve Arrow. Very nice." Comments Fitz. _I see._ I didn't have time to observe my arrows, but I'm glad for the Nerve Arrows. I help Rissa grab what she needs, including Fitz, and run away from the Cornucopia. No one's staying here because of the sharks. No one claims the Cornucopia this time.

Everyone either died in the Bloodbath, got eaten by sharks, or made a break in the opposite direction, forgetting about their backpacks. I remember three other people. Zeke. Mez. And Eura. I tell them to go and that I have to find them. To save themselves. Without warning, Joker's axe nicks the edge of my nose. Next thing I know, he's slicing my cheek with a smaller axe and keeps hacking away with it. He's too fast. But I manage to get pack his attacks and stab him through the throat. He's still going…

Joker hacks across my chest, cutting open part of my costume. I yank out the arrow I stuck him with and keep stabbing him with it. He's gone now. I saw the life leave his eyes, leaving him for dead as shark chow. I turn around and keep looking for the three, shouting their names as fiercely and as loud as I humanly can. Alerting other people towards me, too. Eura answers back and Zeke and Mez are heading into the wilderness. I can definitely see that their costumes are a little tattered. Must've encountered a Career and as hark popped out, convincing them to leave. I reunite with Eura and she has a scratch between her eyes. Two scars across her cheek. "Who did that?" I ask.

"A District Eleven girl with fingernails filed into claws."

My stomach clenches up again and I notice her limp. Another tribute. No doubt with the resolve the Careers have, they've regained control of their arms. The father away they are from us, the better. _For the moment._ Eura and I reach the wilderness, and we follow where Zeke and Mez went. When we meet up with them, the cannons sound. Six. Not a lot of need for battle right now. Not with the sharks on the lake. I watch the hovercrafts come in the distance to retrieve the dead bodies, and then flying away. With luck, Joker will be dead. We meet up with Fitz and Rissa after me calling their name. The Careers are probably on the other side of the lake. As I look around, I see this Arena is more spacious than I thought. As far as the eye can see, more plains and more lakes. I whisper to everyone to get down and stay quiet, to stay out of sight of a mutated polar bear about two miles away. Two eyes, but one's bigger than the other. The claws broken, but sharper. Too big for a regular polar bear. One leg is bigger than the other, and the others are too big or too small. When I sense that it's gone, I tell everyone to get back up and tell them we need somewhere to settle. Fitz agrees, adding. "Somewhere away from these Mutts."

We all agree, and go deeper into the depths of the frozen wasteland. After enough running, we have to stop and dig into our backpacks to drink some water. Inside a cave with ice forming at the mouth. It's a deep cave, but we stay near the entrance for some light. And we agree to stay here for now. Some of us agree to sleep, and some of us stay awake for watch and because some of us aren't as tired. I'm sharpening my arrows with a knife I got from my backpack as Fitz is sitting next to me, working on a double-barreled gun. A barrel on one end, and a barrel at the back of it. I look at it, trying to wrap my head around how it works. Or what it really is. "What's that?"

"A Grapnel Gun."

He puts his finger on the trigger and two scopes pop out from the top. He looks through it and squints one eye. "One scope gives you a perspective of what's in front of you, the other behind you. So, in summary,"

He pulls the trigger and hooks fly out, attaching themselves to giant snow rocks across from each other. He pulls the trigger again and puts the hooks back into the gun. "You get the idea."

I end up being both scared and amazed by this invention. "How did you-"

"Make this? Well, let's just say I've been spending the remaining hours we settled here to put together the parts from my backpack to assemble a weapon. Which can be constructed to create another weapon should I need to. I have enough parts, anyway."

I remember my plan that involved someone from Three and Eura's traps. "So, hey, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

I stop sharpening my arrow and finish. "What if we pulled a Beetee? I have a Shock Arrow anyways."

"Well, we'd have to use my Grapnel Gun and your Shock Arrow to attach to the cable, causing a discharge and electrocuting any unlucky tributes. But they'd have to be close enough and it's a risky option. Or, we could form the trap ahead of time and lead them back here so you fire the arrow to electrocute them. Problem with _that _is, is that someone would've cut the cable by then."

He's taken a lot of time to think about this before I could tell him about it. He goes on to say. "And if we _were _to use tha plan, I'd have to reconstruct this Grapnel Gun with a stronger cable that won't be cut and will hold the charge."

"How much power are you looking to make?"

"Enough to take down an average built Career. Will have to reevaluate with the Careers this time around."

"What if someone steals your gun?"

"Linked to my body chemistry."

I'm sure his people made use of their time making parts for him, and that they explained every part's use and significance. He looks at my pin. "Nice pin."

I smile back and Fitz corrects me. "You know she's not dead, right?"

My smile disappears and I look at him strangely. Like he's lost his mind. "What? They showed her body live impaled with arrows!"

My voice almost disrupting what tributes are asleep so far. Fitz strikes back, shaking his head no. "I can assure you, she's not dead. If you look at the body enough times and closely enough, you can see the blood is fake. The face is fake. It's a mannequin dressed up like her, made to look like her."

My mind blown yet again. And I spit back. "Get that with your goggles?"

Fitz smiles. "Natural instincts. I have a photographic memory and I'm a careful observer of people. Whether it be a person I meet or someone I've seen."

"Well, of course you'd have a photographic memory."

"It was something I had learned on my own."

As time passes, I ask. "What's you think they're doing to Katniss in the Capitol?"

I think of what she's been through, and what's happened to her Rebel group. That she has nothing to come back to. She probably lost her mother, too. But I don't know about that since I never saw her with the Rebels. Even her sister died. "Hijacking. They're brainwashing her with Tracker Jacker Venom. Day in and day out, that's her daily routine. Aside from the usual meals, probably forced. The Capitol killed anyone and everyone that she had relation to, so there'll be no one to snap her out of it. Hijacking can only be stopped with carefully constructed ideas that make the victim try to remember you. She'll be brainwashed to an extent where she'll eventually become one of them. Lost to the world. Shed of her identity. Forced to live out her life as a resident of a government she tried to destroy. Endorsing the Games."

A tear comes that I can't stop, shattering me from the inside out. I feel so sorry for her. Nothing to come back to, and no one to break her from her bond with the Capitol. Then I remember my pin. The only thing she can come back to. Being the Mockingjay. But she's so far gone by now. By now they've broken her, and is now one of them. And as for Fitz, disciplining himself like he did must've added to his calculative mind, but had to be taught his Districts Function being Technology. But he only needed to be taught once. And with that, he began to expand his horizons and think of what else he could make. Fitz's voice gets low all of the sudden as he gets in closer to me. "Do you know about a Rebel Plan in your group?"

Group meaning the people who prepped me for the Games. Wayden. Amaza. Trent. Mulika. Gravin. "I knew, but I didn't tell them."

"Well, they know now."

He smiles, almost enjoying this. Almost. "What made you think that?"

"They all wore the same pattern on their clothes. I noticed it in Trent. His design is a Mockingjay in flight. How Trent gave the other tributes pins of the like before the Opening Ceremony."

He points his finger at me, congratulating me. "Very observant, Filmlia."

"Thank you."

He treats me like a student, and he's my teacher. Even better when I notice the detail and the parts of their clothes that display the symbol are black, and it can only be spotted in the right lighting and a careful eye. An eye I honed with Archery. "Are you a part of the plan?"

"Hmm?"

He's busy looking his backpack for more parts and then he looks at me again, asking for a repeat of the question. "Oh, no. I'm not. Despite what you may think about the Quarter Quell."

He turns his backpack upside down and dumping out some of the parts. After the flood ends, I can still hear parts in there when he sets the backpack back upright. He does have a lot of parts. I take a few and get out my Shock Arrow, trying to think of what to do. My head snaps back to Fitz. "I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"We make another a more potent Shock Arrow for the Careers and a we keep my original one for the other tributes. You make a rope that can hold the charge and give it to Eura so she can make a trap, with our guidance of course. The others can be bait, but not luring too many of the other tributes or the Careers our way while you, me, and Eura stand guard at the trap."

He takes a moment to look at me, taking in the plan. He snickers a little, responding. "Absolutely."

Something tells me with the look on his face that he's been thinking of another thing, too. Another way to go about this plan; so, we agree to tell the plan to the others in the morning. My quiver auto-refills anyway, so me using my arrows as a means of display and something to refer to doesn't matter much. I get to work and before I realize it, the Capitol Anthem plays and I head out of the Cave, looking at the faces in the sky. A boy from Six, two boys from Twelve, Joker, and a boy and girl from Seven. Then it's over. Without warning, the climate begins to get even colder. My body vibrating in this bone-chilling, spine numbing, teeth freezing, vision impairing cold. To break the frosty silence, a demonic scream comes from the trees above me. I'm already cold, and the scream just made it worse. These suits don't work worth a damn in the night. Maybe the Thermal Indicators need time to adjust. The scream breaks through the tundra again, and what seems to be fifty chimes in. Instilling even more fear into the tributes. Waking everyone up, if the climate change hasn't already. A mutated monkey lands feet first in front of me, scaring the hell out of me as I make my first move since the climate change. I scream as Fitz tries to pull me away. We watch as the twelve-foot monkey rises, standing before us. We're helpless to stop it. It leans in closer to our faces and screams at us for God knows how long. As it finishes it's scream, it climbs back a tree. Continuing to scream. I find myself back in the Cave, deep in the Cave, rocking back and forth, so no one can see it. _Monkey Mutts._ It may not want us to be outside at night. I hear howling again. It was the monkeys. And with one frightening scream, they all scream at once in a high-pitched voice. _The Night is ours!_ They repeat it three times with a minute gap in-between, and then they stop screaming. I've made a mental note to call them: The Nocturnal Guardians.

The Cornucopia isn't safe. The Wilderness isn't safe. The Nighttime isn't safe. Nothing can be relied on here for protection or for safety except the comfort of other tributes you can call allies. _Why would Isaac allow this to happen when entertainment's supposed to be a key thing in the Games? And no one's able to come out?_ Maybe when the screams stop, people will assume everything's okay and that it's all right to go find a place to settle if they haven't already. That monkey would've killed me. Possibly a warning sign. And that's most likely the only one I'll get. And anyone caught in the night will be killed where they stand. Food for them and the others. _if the Tributes don't kill you, if the sharks don't kill you, if the bears don't kill you, the monkeys will first._ It's like they're in the deeper depths of the Tundra, so a word of caution. Or, what if, they come out at night on certain nights and hunt you down? Seems logical since the Games can't keep being like this.

Day One, and already I feel the sense that this _is; _n fact, a new Age of Hunger Games. More like a Horror Show. _I have to win. Somehow. Someway. I will. For those in memory that deserve the best. _I hear something outside the Cave and I try to shake any bad thoughts from my mind. Fitz makes it out of the Cave before I do and he gives me a parachute. _Sponsors._ Fitz gives me a flashlight and tells me where to shine it. When I turn it on, it turns darkness into daylight it's so bright. Must've been in his parachute or made it earlier today. Fitz shines the light on the parachute as I open it. It's bigger than usual, and has a bowl of soup and a note on top of the lid. _ENJOY._ The soup I loved so much. _Yes, yes._ Fitz tells everyone else to get up and when they do, their favorite food is supplied for them. The longer the Games go on, the more costly a gift.

Fitz lays out a giant ring in the center of our circle, igniting into a campfire so we have light. "Cool." Compliments Eura. "Was that in your parachute?"

He answers yes and I take a sip of my soup, almost going into a fit it's so good. I've never asked what it is, and when I do, Zeke answers. "Lamb and Chicken Stew."

It must be someway it's made that makes it so desirable. Good enough for me. Fitz and I tell the others about our plan, and after some thinking, they agree to it. Must be that they'd do anything to get out of this Arena. I don't blame theme either. I announce something else. "We'll have to relocate in the morning. When those monkeys aren't out to kill us."

"That's what those were?" Questions Mez. "It didn't even sound like monkeys."

The howling did sound different as opposed to the one I heard when I was on the plate, ready to fight in the games. Wolves are out in the day, monkeys at night. "Almost weren't monkeys. Mutts. We need to get away from the depths of the Tundra during the night. At day, it should be considerably easier to hunt in the deeper regions of the Tundra if we're going to be looking for game. That's to say the wildlife won't be toxic or anything or the sort."

Everyone takes time to think about this and agrees. I add. "I have a friend back home that told me how to skin and prepare game. And since we're in a Frozen Tundra, I can put my knowledge to the test."

"Nice of you to think of a plan, Fil." Acknowledges Zeke as he chows down a turkey leg, swallowing. "If it weren't for you and Fitz, we'd probably be dead by now. Holed up in this Cave like Bats."

I snicker. Mez points out. "And what if the Careers have a better plan than ours?"

"Then we'll have one of us to investigate in secret and report back to whatever point we settle in, should we ever find their place and assume something's up."

Mez shakes his head to approve and Fitz remarks with a smile. "Good to know I won't be the only strategist."

I slurp my soup a little too loud and I end up laughing because of it. "At home, I remember how I would spend out my days thinking of strategies in the Games with some friends of mine. How would we do this? How would we do that? What would happen if, you get the point."

I take another slurp of my soup. "I do."

Rissa points out. "So, what if you two were like, dating?"

Fitz and I get quiet, still as a rock. "Because we're both strategists?" Asks Fitz.

"Yeah. Both smart. Determined. Have a taste for being tech savvy."

Zeke's face turns cold. I realize now that my suit is likely adjusting to the cold, and the chill bumps have faded. "Oh, no. No. We have no interest in being a couple. Is that right?"

I look at Fitz for approval and he agrees. "Wouldn't want that to happen."

Zeke takes a big bite out of his turkey leg and I can see he didn't like Rissa bringing up what she did. Mez points out another thing. "What if those Mutts cut the cables?"

Eura chimes in. "And what if we don't notice our own traps? What with them being concealed and all."

I chuckle back. "We'll conceal them, like Rissa pointed out. And we'll plant an arrow on the trees we're using, pulsing during the night. Linked to our body chemistry."

I look at Fitz when I say, _Body Chemistry._ Then I decide to go in-depth for my plan before anyone else saying anything. "We'll set up traps around the Arena at random locations. Setting up ropes around the top branches-"

Fitz interrupts. "You're suggesting that we use a rope that's measured by a scale, and as enough weight registers, we fire a Shock Arrow."

I stare at him in amazement. He taps his skull. "Hive Mind, perhaps?"

"Something like that. I had a different version of the plan before this one, but yeah. That."

"Good." Remarks Fitz.

He goes on to say that the others will have a part in the plan, too. Helping out with setting up the traps, and everyone will be given special weapons. I eventually notice something that should've been obvious. "Hey, what happened to our alliance with Nine and Eight?"

Rissa replies. "Oh, well,"

She probably forgot about it like I did. "Guess the start of the Games changed that."

The next day, we start setting up traps. As we start on our first one, Zeke gives me a look. Remembering last night. _All those gadgets, that intelligence. The strategic value. And all I have to offer is a kiss. And I haven't even done that yet._ I think. I know this must be hard for him, so I plant a kiss on his cheek. I know it doesn't help the situation, but at least it does something. A tingle of guilt hits me and I snap back to my senses as I see Zeke's lips move, but I can't hear a sound. He was calling my name and I turn to Fitz. He wants me to give him the Shock Arrows he made last night. Only four. I give him the arrows and watch what he does should I ever need to replicate it later. Should he die in the Arena…

He has a shaft of the sort to put the arrows in. Fitz asks for another arrow as he chips away the bark of a tree, telling us to cover the medium-sized bark, after enough tries, with a big enough ball of snow. When it's done, Fitz throws the ball in the center of the rope. The rope condenses and crushes the ball, lifting it upwards as one arrow fires at the ball of snow, melting it. Then the arrow falls to the ground. "Be more interesting when someone steps into it." Complains Mez.

Fitz and I look at each other. Fitz asks. "Think the arrows will be enough to takedown the tributes for now? In the least?"

"Pretty sure." I answer.

Mez yawns. I know he's the youngest of us, and doesn't really hide it that well. Rissa points out a valid point. "What if one of the bigger tributes or some of the wildlife step in the center of the rope, and it can't hold them?"

Fitz gets out a knife and heads to the rope, hacking away at it and not cutting the rope. Staying away from the center. He hacks away at it again and comes back smiling. "Trust me. I made it accordingly."

"Haven't had reason to distrust you yet." Jokes Rissa.

Zeke comments. "Hate to have you as an enemy right now."

I find myself smiling and Zeke sees it. Suppressing a broken smile for my sake. And that's all it is. A broken smile to break me even more. I hear footsteps and I whisper to the group. "Someone's coming."

Mez wakes up and shouts, a little too loud, at the thought of people coming to get us. It might not even be tributes. It may be. Too many footsteps. Probably just wolves. I turn in the direction of the sound and try to look into the distance as Mez shouts. "WE'RE OVER HERE!"

The group groans and complains, and four tributes come towards us. Two boys from Eight and two girls from Nine. We ready our regular weapons and either open fire or start fighting. Zeke has a sword instead of the scepter I imagined him to have, but might change later. Rissa has something called, "Sais." Eura's weaponless, so I come closer towards her, trying to shield her. Mez has a knife. And Fitz has his Grapnel Gun, which he upgraded. It can now fire from any perspective he chooses instead of it firing both at once. Two triggers on each side of the main center of the gun. He fires a hook at one of the boys, but he misses and the boy's about to fire an arrow at Fitz. I shoot the arrow away and fire again. Right in the center of the eye. Every time. Cannon. Zeke's sword is knocked out of his hand and a District Eight boy grabs Zeke by the throat, lifting him up. He's strong, but not strong enough. I'm about to fire an arrow into his eye when I elbow a girl behind me. She cuts the side of my throat with her dagger, causing blood to drip. I punch her in the face and she strikes back with stabbing me in the abdomen at least twice. Rissa has thrown her Sai at the girl. In the heart. Rissa gets closer to the girl and yanks her Sai out, impaling her even deeper with it and crossing her for good measure. Cannon. And then another cannon. I turn around to see who died. Mez. A staff through the brain. Lodged to the side of the tree. I clasp my mouth with my hands, backing away some and closing my eyes.

_I'm sorry, Mez._ He said he would die, and I told him he could make it. _I'm so sorry. _A tear falls from my eye and a boy yanks the staff out of Mez's brain, throwing it at me and I almost dodge it. He wipes away the tear with it instead. I grab the staff and use it as a giant arrow, shooting it back at him. Going through his spine. Cannon. I fire an arrow for good measure. The boy is still fighting Zeke, and almost kills him with his bare hands. Rissa comes up behind him and pushes him into the trap as it lifts him into the air by the foot. Next thing I know, an arrow shoots through his throat, electrocuting him. By the time it impaled his throat, the cannon already sounded. Fitz and I look at one another for approval. Fitz gives a thumbs up to me, and I shake my head agreeing. _It had to be done._ Rissa, Zeke, and Eura look at us, amazed that we're going through with this. I answer the question that may be on their minds. "The faster we kill these tributes, the better."

The boy looks as if he's singed by now. _Yeah, I think it'll take down a Career._ Rissa looks at Mez's body and a gasp escapes her. Eura goes to comfort her with a hug as Rissa buries her head in her chest. Zeke looks broken up about it, too. Even Fitz. We take a moment of silence, aside form Rissa's cries. Zeke says something in honor of him. Which would be odd. "To our dismay, he'd only last so long. He was the youngest and least skilled."

Zeke goes to sit beside Mez's body. "You won't die in vain, buddy."

Eura states. "We should make a promise for him."

She says with tears coming down her face, too. It's the best option right now. All the other tributes I could care less about. But my allies, I would die for. We all agree verbally and Zeke adds. "And I'm sure he knew he'd be the first of this alliance to die."

I head to the boy who got singed to a crisp and yank out the arrow, cleaning the edges against the bark. "And I told him he'd survive." I comment. I get so frustrated at the whole thing I smash the edge of the arrow against the bark, implanting it there instead of breaking it. I yank it out with great force, removing some bark. I tilt it this way and that, weighing it and examining it. Fitz catches me looking at it. "Like it, don't you?"

I look up at Fitz. "It's perfect. Lightweight. Durable. Potent."

I grip it tighter in my hand and Rissa eases out of her breakdown. "And I called Mezchi a worthless bastard."

She stops crying and I put the arrow back in the shaft, walking closer to Rissa, but not in arms reach. Everyone turns their attention to Rissa now. "What?" I add.

"One day, I caught him at Training trying to kill someone with a knife, and he pushed the guards away. I tried to stop him and he almost slit my throat. And so, I called him a worthless bastard. I shouted ridiculous things at him all because he was being such a jackass ever since we first met and-"

I spit back, interrupting her. "Hey! Listen! He's human, and he had _nothing_ to come back to at home, so he tried to make himself a target in the Games. What would _you_ do if he-"

"No, no. You don't understand. He flat out insulted my family."

"So that gives you the freedom to call him a bastard?"

My blood boils and I ignore everything and everyone else around me. "If someone doesn't have anything, you should _help_ them. Not make their condition even worse!"

"Damn it, Fil! Just listen to me!"

"No, you listen to-"

Rissa swings a punch at me and Zeke and Eura try to hold her back, calling me a bastard now. Spitting out even more profanity at me for defending someone like that. Fitz stands beside me and says in a careful tone. "You had the right intentions."

He puts his arm around my shoulder and I allow it for his sake. And because I may not get sponsors to keep me alive if I'm arguing any more with someone who I was once friends with in the Games. Merissa may be _misunderstood,_ but she used Mezchi as an output for her abuse, her neglect, her pain. What if she saw something in him that she didn't like? It could make sense. I take deep breaths to try and calm myself down and compose myself. I apologize to Iris, to my mother, to Gabby, to Wayden, to Trent, all in my mind for lashing out like that. Merissa fights the resistance off of her and removing the hair out of her face. What tears she had are gone now. Her expression is furious. What friendship we had is over. But I'd still promise to win for her if she died, too. Even if she wanted to kill me on the spot just now. She said that Mezchi insulted her family. All she has is a father and a mother. I don't know what happened to her still. I have a feeling I won't get the chance to either. "Fine. I won't kill you. Yet." She implies.

Fitz butts in. "We should really set up the other trap."

"Make your own fucking trap. I'm out."

_Out_ as in out of this alliance. Shouting sorry is useless, even if I know it'd show that I tried. Zeke must read my expression better than anyone else, or read my emotions I have bottled up inside and comes in to hug me. Eura has a hand on my shoulder. I get a lump in my throat that keeps expanding and I grit my teeth, telling myself not to scream. Not to cry. Not now. I say with a crack in my voice, my lips quivering. "Let's keep moving."

Everyone gives me some space and Fitz advises. "If you need time to recover-"

I finish the sentence for him. "No, no. I have to keep going."

Everyone agrees and we keep moving. My resolve has nearly faded, though I keep going. Two members of our group gone in under ten minutes. Only one is dead.

I look back for any hovercrafts coming to retrieve the bodies, and they retrieve all the bodies but Mez's. Why? Minutes later, a different hovercraft retrieves Mezchi. I stare at it and watch it fly away, wondering exactly it could mean. I shake it from my head and try to focus on the matters at hand.

I have my bow in my hand, using my Hunter's Sense to detect anything moving. I look to my left and see the Cornucopia's lake has thawed some. I point it out and we all examine it. "Is the ice here going to melt?" Asks Eura.

Zeke tries to answer. "Probably so."

Fitz remarks. "Then these Thermal Indicators will be useless when it does."

And then we'll eventually burn up when the climate changes. Must be in a designated area right now. Right now, the Cornucopia. There's not much of the lake that has thawed, and it could take some time. So I'll be safe for a couple of weeks, should I stay here that long. I see a medium-sized tree and I tell everyone we should use that one. Fitz smiles as he looks up at it. "Brilliant."

After we set up the trap, we start to look for somewhere to settle. On the way, Eura and Fitz talk plans and Zeke and I talk. "I'm sorry for earlier."

"Don't be." I reassure.

Zeke puts his arm around me. "Really. I see how scared and hurt you are, and the last thing you deserve is going to the Games."

I look at his eyes with despair and confusion in my eyes. "How can you tell?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I move closer to his body. "How long have you known this?"

"After the nightmares. I noticed how easily you held your emotions inside, and then I started hearing those screams. That was when I knew you started to snap."

_The Girl Who Snapped._ "Then _I'm_ sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I'm so weak."

He squeezes me a little tighter. "You're stronger than you think."

After a while, we reach a good enough of a spot to settle. Inside a smaller cave away from the depths of the Tundra._ The deeper you go into the unknown, you worse off you are_. Mezchi. Merissa. I'm scared for Rissa honestly. Regardless of what she did. I tell them I'm going to hunt for game and it seems like it's mid-afternoon. _Twelve-fifteen PM._ Somewhere along that line. I ready my bow and arrows, taking them with me. Showing them what to do and for extra security. Hoping to take down something that won't kill me as a result of food poisoning. There has to be something to eat here, right? I hear a cannon and I guess I'll find out who it was tonight. Six more dead. _Thirty. _I think. About an hour pass and I encounter a giant bear, hiding behind a rock. I look over the corner, gently. Slowly. It's turned away. And as I step on the snow, making a footprint, it stops in its tracks. _It heard me._ It turns around and I ready two arrows, firing at the big eye. It cries in pain and I fire another arrow through the eye, bleeding bright blue blood. It's bleeding ice? Must be that cold here then. After enough arrows to the eye, it finally goes down. I watch it from a distance and when I think it's safe, I approach it. The second I'm in biting reach of it, it rips off a part of my calf. I scream in pain as I yank out my five arrows, impaling it's eye again and using a Nerve Arrow in-between the eyes, cancelling the nerves in its skull. Before it can recover, I get out my knife that I had stuck into the hip of my costume, and begin to chop off the beast's head. Slowly, but surely, it's done. I'm not eating that head. Doesn't mean someone else will. I doubt it, though. I skin the bear and when I see the inside of it, I see it's frozen over. _Of course._ My stomach's growling and it's been hours since I've last eaten something. I try to lift up the bear and it's like lifting a boulder. I prepare the meal with a satchel I stole from a tribute, stuffing some of the goods from my backpack into the satchel for easier travel. The others still have a backpack. I do what I can with what I have and throw away the unnecessary parts. When I think I'm done, I give the parts to the others. Some liver. Some legs. I know Iris is enjoying watching me put all that training to good use. I shout at whatever camera is positioned on me. "Thank you, Iris!"

The people watching probably looked away when I was preparing the bear, and I don't blame them either. Not used to seeing all that I saw. I tell everyone that there's juice inside the meat and I had to use some concoction made in a drink to melt away the ice. When we take our first bite, the food's actually _really, really_ good. _Wow._ Almost better than the soup. Fitz remarks. "You know, I hadn't expected you a hunter. What with you being in District Five and all."

I explain how I picked up the habit, how the district had a power outage and what I had to do. When I'm all done, he replies, approving. Eura and Zeke comment on the situation, not expecting what I did. But I had no other choice. As we continue eating, I'm hydrated and my hunger is satisfied. I wasn't so sure about eating this bear, but it was _so_ worth it. _Four thirty-seven. _I think. Another cannon. Twenty-nine dead now. It's going to be worse when it reaches midnight. The Monkey Mutts will hunt for us, hunting for us to see if we're on their turf. Their screams breaking through the night. Later that night, that's exactly what they do. When we return to our Cave, at Midnight, we wake up to screams. The bear really keeps you full longer than you'd think. Must be how it looks that makes it unappetizing to other tributes, and unwanted. The night is riddled with nightmare fuel of screams and howling monkeys. About an hour passes and a girl is screaming in the distance. Five monkeys scream in unison as the girl screams even louder. Even more petrified. I hear her last scream and a cannon fires. Two more firing. After three hours of fear-inducing monkeys, only three cannons were heard. Everybody probably learned their lesson to stay away from them when they started hunting down tributes. I remember the trackers and start to get uneasy. _What if Isaac, the Gamemaker, begins to make the monkeys even smarter by transferring our location to them? And we'll be helpless to stop the mammoths. _The screams stop after three hours and then we hear the Capitol Anthem. I decide not to go outside to look. I don't care if the monkeys _are_ gone. I've been cringing so much that I'm too sore to move, let alone take a breath without my exhales compressing into my skeletal system, making it even worse. When the morning comes, I have trouble keeping my eyes open and I can't stand up straight. My steps are uncoordinated. My legs are wobbly. I keep falling to the ground and Zeke sees the bags under my eyes. The fear in my expression with brokenness mixed in. No one can read it like him. "You didn't sleep at all last night?"

I can't even speak I'm so torn. The three hour horror show last night traumatized me, and it didn't do it to the others? Is it just me? _Mockingjay._ What'd they do to me? I let Zeke answer for me and Fitz asks. "How come it affected you the most?"

So it's not just me then. I shrug my shoulders. Zeke tries to hoist me up on his shoulder and I can barely stand on my feet. Fitz observes me and then looks at his backpack. Is he going to make a contraption to help me walk? Or enhance my bone structure? Or what? I'll just have to see. Hunger is beginning to kick in and I can't say what's on my mind. Fitz goes on to say that my Broca's Area has been damaged due to post-traumatic stress. He explains the Broca's Area as a part of the brain that controls speech. And with everything that's happened, I wouldn't be surprised. My mind mustn't be able to take anymore abuse. Verbally. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Fitz tries to reassure me. "Don't worry. We'll win the Games for you if you even if you can't."

I shake my head for approval and start to think of what I'm going to do. Fitz takes care of it as if reading my mind. "Eura and I will go to set up more traps. Zeke will stay here to protect you. And yes, I made the new weapons and your new arrows last night."

I try to smile back, and even that's impossible, it seems. Having someone around that will probably ease my mind back together is the best solution. No one objects the plan and then they're off. When they are, Zeke and I snuggle together. "Do you know how much I love you?"

I don't speak, and I let him do the talking. "How much I would be willing to die for you?"

He puts a finger underneath my chin, lifting my head up. "You're still the strongest and the smartest girl I know."

He leans in for a kiss on my lips and in an instant, I feel tingles enveloping my body like a Tesla Coil. Electricity bouncing off of the coil. Coil being my spine. Zeke's lips being the conductor. I close my eyes in pleasure of the moment. My hands find his cheeks and I slide my hands down them. He has bruises on his cheeks, but he lets me get away with feeling his cuts and bruises. As my speech is inoperable, I can't let out a groan or anything of the sort. The compassion stays inside of me. Slowly; but not surely, my mind begins to reshape. I can feel one piece here and there forming back together, but that's all. I try to kiss him back, and I can't even do that either. What reshaped in my mind shattered in that heartbreaking moment, I think. I bite my lip and he stops kissing my lips. I slide my fingers across his soft, blue lips. Some of his Thermal Indicators were probably busted. I don't want to look anyways. I keep sliding my thumbs across his lips as I stare at him. I know forcing myself to kiss would be a bad idea with the shape my mind is in right now, so I don't do it. But if I don't, I'll never know. I close my eyes, tightly. I shed a tear at the pain and I slowly inch my way towards his lips, tensing up, shaking. _I know this hurts. But you have to do it._ Zeke knows what I'm doing, too. I remember what my mother told me about love one day as a kid. How I asked why she was always so happy when her husband came back home safe and sound. How they didn't let anything bring them down. _Love is the emotion one feels for someone that signifies that one can't live without the other. Love is the emotion that reunites a man and a woman. It conquers everything. Love never lets go, never gives up, and never dies._

I kiss him back and the tingles return in my body, sparking me to life again. It hurts trying to force myself to kiss him; I need to know. I need to know how it feels. Us kissing together. Maybe Zeke does love me. He's shown that he feels the same way I do. As we kiss, I feel tingles of joy. Hope. Hope in the Games. I smile back at him, replying back in a weak voice. "I love you."

Zeke snickers. "I love you, too."

In the heat of the moment, I forget about anything else and two cannons go off. Thinking it's just tributes dying. Then it hits us. Fitz. Eura. I try to run out of the cave for them and I end ups tumbling again. I know the crowd mustn't be enjoying watching me struggle like this. And Snow's smiling at the whole thing, watching someone that wants to be the Mockingjay stumble and fall under her own feet. _I could watch you die over and over again. And I just might._ As I'm about to consider resting, I try to stand again, prove Snow that I'm not just a little seventeen year old girl just waiting for the slaughter. Zeke tries to steady me and I tell him not to. He gives me space and I slowly try to stand on my own, twisting my back to try and pop my spine. It hurts like hell, that's for sure. The leaning back doesn't help me either. I force myself to do all of this and, even if I wish I were dead right now, I won't give Snow that satisfaction. As I'm relying on one foot to keep me afoot, I slowly put my other foot down. _Damn it._ The pain is too much to bare and I let out the pain in a bloodcurdling scream. _You can't beat the Games. You're just a little child from District Five with a useless spark._ I grit my teeth in agony, in ferocity. Zeke gives me my room and, as I stand on two feet, almost. I press three fingers against my lips and give the three-finger salute, whistling the Mockingjay whistle. The four-tone Rue note. Gratitude shoots through me. If I had cringed anymore I probably wouldn't be able to do this until my body adjusted. I'm barely holding up as is, but it's worth it. _Take that, Snow._ A smile appears on my face and I think to myself again. _Let the spark grow._ Zeke congratulates me with a hug and a kiss. A short one, that is. I gather my satchel and refill it with the good I need. I get my quiver of new arrows and my newly-constructed, hi-tech, heavy tech armor bow. Lightweight, too. _I'll remember you, Fitz. And Eura._ Okay, so there's twenty-seven tributes left. I bet the Careers are still alive. They have to be. I think Rissa died yesterday before the monkey incident. And why are there different hovercrafts? Just as I leave the Cave, Cladius announces to everyone in the Games. "Attention tributes. I have some great news for you all."

Must be time for the feast. "I am announcing a feast at the Cornucopia. You may never know what goodies will be in store, just waiting to be claimed. It might even save your life. Or someone else's."

Zeke and I exchange looks. _Painkillers._ For me, anyways. Don't know about everyone else. I keep listening. "So don't delay! Get to the Cornucopia as fast as you can, and remember. May the odds be ever in your favor!"

With that, he closes. Zeke knows trying to talk me out of this will be useless, so he comes with me, carrying his scepter. My heart drops at the memory of it. That nightmare. I had forgotten all about it. We head to the Cornucopia and a memory resurfaces. Thawing. We don't know what to expect when we get there, so when we do get there. There's backpacks at the edge of the shore. Next to the sharks…

_Get your goodies before the sharks do._ Zeke and I look around for the backpack with our district number on it as a female Career pops out from behind a tree, hurling a knife our way as it lodges itself inside a tree branch. The girl looks fierce and has muscles that make me look like a stick. I remember my traps, and they're nowhere close enough for enjoyment. And I just stepped into a Career trap. How long have they been hiding here? It gets hotter and hotter as more ice thaws. I can't pay much attention to that right now since I'm Wayza's punching bag. Could really use those painkillers right about now. Zeke tries to stop her, and the giant tribute I've had a nightmare about puts him in a headlock. He's sweating. Hard. Probably been here for a while, too. What, was he taught the schedule for the Games? Wouldn't think elsewhere. Wayza breaks my jaw with three punches and I use my bow as a shield, making it take the blunt of the punch. She grunts in pain and my bow is still perfect, too. I get out my Nerve Arrow and, just as I'm about to stab her with it in the neck, probably disabling her from the neck down, she punches me in the gut, across the face. Blood spews out of my mouth and I think I even lost some teeth. She gut punches me _twice_ this time and elbows me in the face, breaking my nose as blood flows outwards. She finishes the beat down by kicking me to the ground. _This is it, isn't it?_ I look to Zeke who has broken free of the grip, and the giant man, Stone, punches Zeke about five feet. Wayza steps on the hand that has the Nerve Arrow and literality crushes my hand. I watch Zeke trying to fight Stone, and failing miserably. _What am I going to do?_ As I'm convinced that I'm going to die, Wayza decides to talk me down. She gets out another knife, making a circle around my face. Like she's a surgeon, about to cut off my face. "So, District Five, huh? I bet your family will be shocked when they deliver your body."

I spit back at her. "They'll know I died…."

I end up choking on my own blood on the inside. I can't finish my sentence. Wayza snickers. "What's that? I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you over me trying to kill you. And that's all you deserve. And you'll die alone like the rest of the smartass morons that thought they could make it out alive."

I get tired of drowning in my own blood so I spit it back at her, blinding her. I slide my hand off of her while I can and end up gurgling blood instead of screaming. The idea of that makes me vomit inside. I free my hand and _jab_ it against her neck, spitting more blood in her face, finishing my sentence. "…..Fighting to stop you."

I get out my Shock Arrow and impale her in the gut with it. It's sharp enough to penetrate her muscles, which is good. I want this inside her intestines. I look away but don't close my eyes. If I do, I have a feeling I'll never come back. _Don't. Black. Out. _When she's done screaming, I hear a cannon go off. I look at her body. Probably burnt to a crisp on the inside. Then I see Zeke's dead body lying near the shore. His name escapes my lips in a world shattering moment. In a scream worse than the monkeys'. I rush towards him as adept as I can, putting my hand underneath his head to steady it. Stone probably left with his backpack and forgot about me. I will get him, though. Needless to say, he's killed most of the tributes himself with his bare hands. Even better than the last one did. I keep shouting Ezekiel's name and bawling my eyes out, bawling like a madman. If there's a part where I break where everyone can see it, now's the time. I know he can't hear me, but I don't listen to any thought in my mind that says otherwise. A hovercraft comes by and I didn't have long enough of a reunion with him. I bury my face in his chest one last time. Kiss him one last time. And say goodbye. I step away and let the craft take his corpse away. _You're on your own now._ The thought is relaxing and mind-numbingly ludicrous. Relaxing because I won't have to watch over anyone else. I've watched Fitz enough to know what to do to make my own trap. I'll manage with what I have as weapons for now. Stone had to have been using some kind of steroid from his sponsors. _Unbelievable_. Punish the rebelling districts by giving them an unfair fight in an arena they know they're going to die in.

I search for my backpack and leave alone. Every time I try to shake Zeke from my mind, I hear his voice, calling my name. Final words. I rest behind a tree to search my backpack, setting my bow in my lap. It is painkillers. There's a spoon and a small bowl with liquid inside. Must be what I'm looking for. I open it and, as I sip the liquid, it's actually the soup with the painkiller medicine embedded in the lumps of chicken. I can taste the difference. At least it eases my physical pain by a lot, and somewhat eases my mental condition. But not my emotional condition. Emotionally, I'm a hopeless wreck. I'm hallucinating Zeke in the Arena, and I catch myself even talking to him. As I lean in for a kiss, I only end up kissing air. I forget the spoon and chug down my soup, hoping that I'll help. I come out gasping for air and I put the lid back on the soup, putting the spoon back in its place on top of the lid. The cannons sound, indicating that the feast is over I assume. I know it is when the sharks pop out of the water, taking the backpacks with them into the tribute infested waters. Nine cannons. It doesn't faze me like I thought it would. Maybe it's because I've changed so drastically, and I could care less about any of those freaks. Especially the Careers who did most of the killing. Or it could've been Stone. Eleven Careers, I think, me, and the other tributes. I remember Snow, how he must be laughing at this now. Telling me I was going to die anyways. Maybe I will. I'm shot to my feet as monkeys are screaming. During the day still. I ready my bow and explosive arrow. _The monkeys are evolving. _I catch sight of a wolf in the distance, and a monkey manages to get its whole head in is mouth, biting it off and spitting it out. _Don't hesitate. Do. Not. Hesitate._ I'm about to fire, but I want it to come closer. It's about ten yards away, and makes its way towards me like its nothing. I fire as fast as I can, firing another explosive arrow inside it's mouth when it opens up. Next thing I know, I hear an explosion inside of him. Blowing him up from the inside. His guts flying everywhere. I see a red flashing on the ground, and I examine it carefully. I move towards it and put my hand on the flash. Covering it. Something metal. I pick it up and examine it in the sunlight, and I a slight pulse in my wrist where they put the tracker-Wait. They _put _a tracker inside of me that makes me react negatively to the monkeys. Could be everything else, too. My pain and fears amplified. They want to do whatever it takes to break me. Explains why I feel even more like death than I normally would. I don't know what took me so long to realize it. Fitz probably made earplugs for the group when I was deep in the Cave, cringing, spazzing out. And I involuntarily pushed him away.

I take a moment to think of what I've been through. How it could mean if I could come out a winner, or die like everyone else. Mezchi. He had nothing to come back to. Merissa. Misunderstood, but understood to have a reason for what she was doing. Eura. So strong, so frail. Fitz. Someone I trusted. Ezekiel. Someone I couldn't save, no matter how much I wanted to. Me. The only sane-No, I doubt my sanity right about now. I'm the Girl With the Spark still. And the longer the Games go on, the more that spark I started at the Reaping begins to grow. That spark I made with the pin and the braid. Fighting my pain and saluting to the world. I remember why I wanted to win in the first place. For Katniss. For my family. For everyone that needs a Mockingjay. And for everyone I've lost. Everyone I cared out and will lose. Anyone dying for the Rebellion. I _have_ to win. Somehow. Someway. I _will_ win.

My mind shoots back to how the monkeys could get smarter. How the Gamemakers could transfer my location to the monkeys. I get out a normal arrow and do what I have to do: Carving a hole in my wrist and taking out my tracker. The sight is something I'm used to. The pain hurts like hell, too. More monkeys are coming my way. About five. Six. Eight. I try to cut faster, and the blood keeps pouring. I force myself to keep going regardless. MY screams are going to alert more people and more monkeys my way. Maybe I should just impale myself with a Shock Arrow and set myself to emit a discharge when someone tries to touch me. I remember there was a trap set fairly near the Cornucopia. I have a feeling it's about to be activated, too. I hear someone screaming, and stop in an instant as the arrows kill them. I only have two traps throughout the entire Arena, large enough that I don't think I've ever scratched the surface of it all yet.

I manage to remove any flab of skin still hanging, and the monkeys' screams are getting louder. But they're staying where they are. Probably a disturbance in the transference of the location. Probably me. Good thing I found out what I did before it was too late. It doesn't help that my wrist is bleeding out now. I use the same arrow to cut off a part of my costume, wrapping it around my wrist. I have the tracker out, and impale it with an arrow. I hear people coming my way. Laughing. Shouting. Careers. Must've sent my location to them before it was too late. Probably in contact with them. They still have the cameras, but they can't see me that way, I don't think. I'm running and try to get as far away from them as I can. _Six o' five, PM. _When I think I have enough distance away from them, I wrap two ropes around two tress that seem to be apart enough for use. _Setting a trap._ I think. I set up a Fitz Trap, and set it up across one of the tress needed for the other trap. I hear them coming closer. The monkeys keep screaming, and then I hear them getting closer, too. _Focus._ I set up another Fitz Trap and when I finish it, I turn around to an unlucky male Career. The male runs into the cable and gets clothes-lined. As he does, he generates enough force to set off the mechanism attached to one of the branches further up the tree, firing a Shock Arrow at him as he's down. Watching him spaz out on the ground. I fire an Explosive Arrow at the distracted Careers, knocking them back and I hear five cannons go off. If it can kill a monkey, it can kill them.

As I'm about to fire another arrow at them, a monkey screams behind me, setting off a Fitz Trap right behind me. I move away and watch the monkey get electrocuted, but it's not enough to kill him. My heart sinks and I begin to get nauseated. Monkeys surround me, The Careers fighting off the monkeys, or at least trying. _Focus. _I back away from the chaos, and Stone seems to have taken down a monkey. With a knife, of course. And another one, digging in deep for a cut through the heart. An unfortunate tribute runs into the mayhem and I watch a monkey eat him alive. Doing the same with a Career. They try to bite into Stone's skin, but it won't work. What kind of steroids did they give him? Is he their last act of defense and hope of winning the Games for the Capitol? Why are they even allowing this? Stone throws a knife at a fellow Career, hurling his knife through his throat.

The screams, the cries of pain, and my tears of shock knowing I may never make it out alive. Not with how Stone is. I saw him sweating earlier today, and I know he may not like the hot weather right now. I can see him sweating even now. The ice is thawing. I'm sweating, too. Like I'll drown in it. My Thermal Indicators are shut off.

A monkey is about to attack me when I fire another explosive arrow inside his mouth, blowing him up again. I keep firing at random, but I only manage to get two shots in before a female Career whacks me across the head with a rock. I turn over to see who it was and then they're smashing my head with the rock. As she does it, she mocks me. Stepping on my diaphragm, transferring her weight on top of me. _So no one has to hear you scream._ She says. I haven't recovered the last time the Careers beat me up, and now I'm enduring it again. I spit the blood in her face again and fire a fire arrow in her throat, causing the inside of her to burn up. Not any seconds longer after that, I hear a cannon. I look around me and in such a short amount of time, I see bodies lying everywhere. Tribute. Career. Monkey. Then it's just me. And Stone. He has claw marks and teeth marks on him. So he can bleed. Good.

He spreads his arms out graciously, gloating. "Look at me! I took out those monkeys by myself. And you think an arrow is going to stop me? There's nothing you can use that can-"

While his mouth is open, I fire an explosive arrow inside of him. He catches it before it gets the chance to go inside, exploding in his face. As soon as I see the smoke clears, Stone's already rushing towards me. Knocking every arrow I can fire. I get out a Shock Arrow ready to jab his eye with it. No sooner when he throws a punch, I act as fast as I can, jabbing it in there. I wait for the mechanism to activate, electrocuting his eye socket, sending a current through his nerves. As expected, he keeps going. Slower, but it's worth it. He hits me in the gut knocking me into a tree, breaking off some of the bark. Breaking my back. I know that not all the tributes are here, but it looks like it is. Less than eight tributes left now. Stone punches my shoulder, immobilizing it and breaking it. This is it. I know it has to be. No one else Jeff to save me. No one around to save me. And Stone will just kill me right here. And of course, I knew this would happen eventually. "So, this is it."

He smiles lustfully at me. "Girl With the Spark, huh? Looks like your spark just ran out."

Obviously he'd talk me down before actually killing me. "Ever get to say goodbye to Zeke? I hope you did. If not, you can tell him I said hi."

I can't grit my teeth or fight back, or scream I'm so weak. Fighting back against him wouldn't do any good anyways. "And tell Katniss, too. Tell her how you failed trying to rebel against the Capitol."

He just had to go there. I decide to go ahead and close my eyes, knowing it's going to happen anyway. I can't stop the tears from falling, breaking me even more than he did. "Let's make this nice and slow, will we?"

He must not have the knife with him. I didn't bother to check. He begins to pound my face in with his fist, and after the third hit, I hear him scream. I can't even open my eyes, and it wouldn't matter if I did. I hear him scream even louder and then a cannon. What killed him? Who killed him? There's no one that can challenge him. I hear Rissa's voice and my heart twists, hurting me even more. My stomach drops. She's come to finish me off. But she's not. She shouts my name in fear. A scratch and weakness in her voice. I try to open my eyes and only the left one opens. Barely. How'd she know where I was? This was planned somehow. Or someone, Wayden, was barking orders in her ear. Is that even allowed? Rissa reaches into my satchel for anything useful, opening my mouth to put the painkiller soup into my system. Healing my dying body. Just let me die, Rissa. Just let. Me. Die. She tells me to try and swallow and a moan escapes me. She makes me eat more and, when I'm strong enough to speak, I ask her. "What's happening?"

"You and I are the only ones left. I took out the weaker ones that remained."

I suppress a smile, until I realize what's happening. She's nursing me back to health so I can walk away a victor. Forgiveness. I sit up as fast as I can, as well as I can, and I hug her tightly. Screaming at her to not do this so fiercely it's like I'm screaming bloody murder. I tell her I forgive her, and that she should take my arrows, any arrow, and kill me with it. And I knew she'd object to it. So I get one out with my good arm and as I'm about to stick it down my throat, ready for the Shock Arrow to kill me, Rissa takes it from me. Saying she should die. I scream at her again, saying this is pointless. She pushes me back into the tree and impales herself with it. Through the heart. Shocking herself in the process. I watch her helpless, broken, scarred, bloody body, spaz uncontrollably on the ground, screaming her last breaths. When it's all over, I go towards her and rip the arrow out, resting my hand underneath her head like Zeke. I know she's dead. There's no use in calling her name. No use in telling her anything. I don't listen to my advice, and do it anyway. I look at Stone's body. Rissa stuck fire arrows in his ear, probably shoving them deeper and deeper inside. They're so far in I can only see the edges of the arrows.

I turn my attention to Rissa, and Cladius announces me the winner of the 76th Hunger Games. I don't feel good about it. I don't rejoice. I don't say I'm proud about it. Instead, I contemplate suicide again. I grab an arrow and hover it over one of my eyes, breaking down emotionally, too weak to go any further. I bet Snow is telling me to shove it in. To kill my self right now. That's the only thing that keeps me from committing suicide. Defeating Snow. I watch above me as a hovercraft appears, letting down a ladder. I can't carry Rissa's body with me up with me. So that by chance whoever is up in the hovercraft can do something to help her. Not sure how, but they'd have to do something. I scream at Rissa's corpse, my tears falling into it as I descend up the ladder. The only thing I want right now is to blow up that hovercraft. Taking me with it. Regardless of the rebellion. I can't stop screaming Rissa's name, and her body left to rot out in the Arena. A lump in my throat expands, her body disappearing as I ascend further into the sky. When I get inside the hovercraft, another comes to retrieve her body. Then I find out why there were different hovercrafts. Zeke. Mez. Fitz. And Eura. They're all here. Sitting in chairs, waiting for something to happen. Zeke comes and pries me off the ladder, setting me on the ground. Wayden walks through a door, telling me. "Congratulations, you just won the 76th Hunger Games."

Something hits us and a wall opens up. A Peacekeeper carrying Rissa's body. Delivering her to us. My mind's so broken I can't think of an answer. Everyone looks good as new. Rissa will, too. Wayden sees the shock on my face, remarking. " What? Did we finally pull one on you?"


	10. The Aftermath

"The Capitol was furious about the Games still going on; and the ones that weren't, were working with Snow, training the Careers to be better than before. The others working with him involved the Gamemakers, instructed by Snow to make a deadlier game." Explains Wayden.

"It worked. Over half of the tributes were in on it. And we'll need you to take out Snow at the Awards Ceremony when he gives you your crown for being a Victor. I've received word from an operative in the President's Mansion while you were in the Arena that Snow has been experiencing some heart problems. Probably because of all his loyal subjects in the Capitol turning against him. Or just, another way of saying it, inhabitants of the Capitol that are against him."

Wayden crosses his arms. "After the rebellion, and when they showed Katniss's body on live television, everyone snapped. But Snow had threatened their lives if they dared rebel, too. When they heard about Katniss in the Arena, chaos broke out. And trust me, I was there to see it. Everyone broke loose and the Peacekeepers tried to detain their own citizens. When you saluted in the Arena, that's when it all sparked. When the districts started to rebel, but they were punished with utmost cruelty."

He pauses, and takes a drink of water, gasping for air, continuing as he puts the lid back on. "And when your allies died in the Arena, we retrieved their bodies and nursed them back to health the best we could. They'll visit you time from time at your Victor's Village, or settle there. Away from public eye. We don't have the power to attack the Capitol, and we may never be able to. They're stronger and even worse this time around. Now that we're all caught up, any questions?"

Everyone gives me time to process this. To consider this. And my allies are afraid. Hurt. I can see it in their expressions. What seems like hours, it registers. "Why the hell didn't you tell me first?!"

No one answers. This is probably how they reacted. Just not in the way I did. I can't believe what he did. Wayden takes a deep breath. "Because people needed to see you for you in the Games."

I stand up and stride towards him. "And you thought it was okay to have a Rebel Plan, and not tell me about it until the Games were over? Until the Capitol screwed me over? Until the Careers and everyone else I was trying to kill tried to rip my heart out?!"

Hurt is on his face. But I ignore it. "Anything else?"

I think of anything else I can say. And then I reply back in a softer tone. Remembering my allies. Remembering how they're safe and sound. Or at least, the next best thing. "Thank you for bringing my allies back."

In our own twisted minds, we have something good to think about in light of this betrayal and death. I don't hug him because I'm still pissed at him. "You're

welcome." Replies Wayden. He exits the room and I feel guilty for what I did. I follow him out and hug him tightly, apologizing. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because there's another way to look at this. Snow will be dead after this."

I remove myself from the hug and Wayden corrects. "You won't be the one to kill him, though. We're on our way back to the Capitol for the interview with Caesar Flickerman. After that, the Awards Ceremony. I have two rebels dressed as Peacekeepers already in place, waiting to kill Snow in secret when he returns to his mansion."

I take this in and look at it the right way because I'm tired of being angry. Tired of trying to kill people. But Snow is an exception. I'll happily watch him die. "What about the others?"

Others being the two other stylists and Amaza. "Still alive. Don't worry. Even if you did rat us out in the Games for displaying the _Mockingjay_. We had to make sure we would stay alive to carry out our plan."

Underneath that layer of drunkenness and heart, lies a stone cold rebel that wants to overthrow the Capitol as much as I do. But his way is more sadistic and involved breaking his own allies to do it. And it as all for show. Later on, I reunite with Trent who has made something like a black dress. This one has sleeves. Sleek. Looks like a Tech Formal look the District Three tributes wore with Caesar Flickerman. I look at myself in the mirror and Trent implies. "I added a little something for the dress."

Something tells me I know what it is. Trent turns on the dress and a circle lights up on my chest, connecting the dots inside of it to make my pin. And I was right. Electricity shoots out from the pin, going up, down, and slanted downwards to my dress, wrapping around the back of it and connecting to the pin. Pulsing. He puts an elegant masquerade mask on my face to go with the dress. The dress scares me. Being a Mockingjay dress and what not. I'm afraid for my stylist. I'll just lie about my stylist's name, for his sakes. No matter what anyone else already believes about me supporting the Mockingjay. While I have the chance, I take advantage of it. "Where'd you get the pin you gave Mezchi, Merissa, and Ezekiel on the Opening Ceremony?"

"Katniss's Rebellion."

It makes sense, at least. I figured that'd be why, but I needed to be sure. When I get out on the stage, Caesar congratulates me on winning the Games, and asks me what was going through my mind when I had found out I won. "That I'd never get to see any of my allies again."

Everyone _awws _for me, some crying. "And I had bonded with the ones from my district from the beginning."

I seem to be a pretty good liar. Caesar agrees with me, putting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it, looking like he's going to be sick. "I can't say how sorry I am for you, Filmlia."

I decide to break out into tears to sell the moment, and my lip quivers as I continue speaking. "And Ezekiel, I loved him so, so much!"

I have an emotional breakdown in front of everyone and Caesar sheds some tears himself. He gets up from his chair and hugs me tightly, talking into my ear with the microphone still against his mouth. "We all feel so sorry for you. Know that we love you."

We separate ourselves from the hug and Cesar continues. "You'll be in our hearts."

I wipe away some tears and thank him. Minutes later, my time is up and when I leave the stage, I can't stop crying. I hide away from everyone and slide down a wall, crying into my dress. I'm too good of a liar. Or it could be I remembered how much the Games affected me, and how I'll never be able to recover from it all. It's like I never left…

Later on, I build up the urge to stand again, to face the man who caused this, and become crowned victor. Him crowning me victor, of all people right now. Who displays the Mockingjay. It should be enough to punish him, but I refuse to listen to that. I'm by myself on the platform, watching Snow walk my way with a crown on a velvet, elegant pillow. He walks up to me and puts the crown on, congratulating me on a job well done. I glare at him with intensity and anger. With disgust. How he thinks he can get away with this. He catches sight of my braid and hands the pillow to a Peacekeeper to get off his hands. He caresses my hair and slides his finger down my braid, complimenting. "What a lovely braid."

He smiles, and then he sees my pin. "And what a lovely pin."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Snow."

He begins to chuckle and I strike back more fierce, a little louder. But keeping it quiet enough for the conversation to register between us only. Or to try, at least. "I know all your lies. I see right through them. What kind of a fool do you take me for?"

I have his attention now and he looks at me with curiosity. I continue. "You're not a president. You're a murderer. A heartless, poisonous, unforgiving snake that has nothing else to do with their life but to think of how to kill little children."

Snow suppresses a little smile and it infuriates me even more. I release all my anger I've kept inside towards him and project it against him. Like an arrow to the heart. And I'd want nothing more. Still keeping it quiet. "The Capitol is hell. And you froze it over. So you can take this moment as a chance to think about your life, to think about how selfish, how pathetic, how ludicrous your corrupted mind is. How it reflects your life. You're the _fool_, Snow. You think you can get away with this."

Snow's smile disappears and he tilts his head to the left, examining me with a different perspective. "You can kill everyone I love. Everyone I never knew by sending them to a pointless game that has no meaning. You can burn my district to the ground. You can kill any Mockingjay that ever threatens your godforsaken government. The Games hold no purpose because there will always be someone to stop you."

Snow readjusts his head back to normal, looking back at me with confusion and absolute disgust. With hatred. I keep going. "There will always be a Mockingjay. Katniss caused the spark. You were afraid of what she had done, so you had to fortify your defenses and reinforce your Peacekeepers. And what good is the Capitol if, considering how well _fortified _and how powerful it was, it was almost brought down by a teenager with cameras and propaganda scenarios."

My voice has gotten even more fierce without me knowing it, and I allow it. My body tense to the point where I'd need someone to straighten me out with an industrial forklift. My blood bubbling. I can feel my eyes penetrating his almost. My fists are clenched. "She almost defrosted your _hell _of a Capitol, and you thought you could freeze it over again. Leaving a sheet of ice under what was so vulnerable, so frail. You thought no one could see through the permafrost. Nothing matters here in the Capitol. There will always be someone to ignite the spark Katniss has left. The spark in Panem you can't extinguish. The Mockingjay. One day, I will watch your Capitol burn. Whether it be with propaganda or in force, someone will overthrow your filthy government. Someone will melt your sheet of madness."

I can feel my face tightening, my back stiff. My body shaking. And the bubbling blood replaced by a sense of revival. Victory. Of standing up against Snow. And I take full responsibility of my actions after this. Right now, I don't think about that. I keep going. "You can send your men out to kill me. To kill everyone else. But that's all you do. If you were a snake, you'd do it yourself. If you were a snake, you wouldn't hire people to subject someone to your venomous touch. But I guess you're not man enough to do what has to be done, _President_ Snow."

I can feel our eyes penetrating each other. Snow's look grows grimmer with each second that passes. With each word I say. "You can do whatever you want, but it'll only show how alike you are compared to the people you kill. You're just another child, rolling around in his wealth and power. And like a child, you abused that power. And like a child,"

I suppress a smile at him to go against his dark, devilish frown, finishing my monologue. "You'll die like the rest of us. Have a nice day, Coriolanus Snow."

Snow's eyes reflect the character he's hidden underneath. I can see it. I can see his body tensing up. His expression as cold as he is through his beard. Whistling the four-tone Rue note from the 74th Hunger Games and used after the 75th for the Rebellion. After that, I dismiss myself from the platform. I try to prepare myself for whatever happens next. For whatever madness will be wrought. A new president will obviously step up to take Snow's place, so long as it won't be him anymore. As the day goes on, I'm back on the train, heading back to my district. Sitting alone in the car that I first met Wayden. When I first discovered that Ezekiel had a crush on me as our eyes met. Now it's empty. The car feels emptier than I thought it'd be. It's just me in here, but it feels like there's no one here. I position myself to get comfortable in a booth. The silence almost bringing tears to my eyes. I feel unlike myself, like nothing makes sense in this mysterious and gloomy moment. If only my allies were here. Especially Zeke. Rissa. I have to pretend they don't exist. Like I never even met them. Which is partly why this car is so lonely. I don't care if I do see them again from time to time at the Victor's Village. It'd be a plus, at least.

I unclip my pin from my shirt and look at it, running my fingers through the feathers of the Mockingjay. Whistling the note once. I get a lump in my throat again, but I don't cry. I could easily do it. However, I don't. And I don't know why. I clench the pin in my hands, resting it on top of my forehead, closing my eyes. Thinking of how I'm going to adjust. What I'm going to do with myself. What I'm going to do to manage my pain. How I'll never smile the same way again. The world will never be the same. No one will be the same. And I'll be the one who changed the most.

When I reach my district again, I'm escorted by Peacekeepers to the stage I was reaped on. Amaza's there, so is everyone else in Five. When I take my place and get still, Amaza congratulates me and begins her speech. "Though, sadly, the president couldn't make it today, we are glad that someone could."

I can sense the shift in her voice. Probably actually broken by the notion I'll have to forget I ever knew the only real friends I had. Or bothered to make. Or friends that befriended me. It's the emptiness no one can understand until it happens. It's like I'm Katniss. Nothing to come back to. Amaza continues. "Filmlia Treen, the Girl With the Spark. From District Five."

She can't finish, even if I can see her mouth is open, and she tries to release her words. And probably saying something else instead. "I'm so sorry."

She takes time to think about what she just said, and walks off the stage to the trains back to the Capitol. She must've bonded with them more than I thought she did, and watching them go through what they did, including me, who, took the blunt of it all. The people gathered for the speech exchange some murmurs and the Peacekeepers are still standing on guard. I'm not sure why. She dropped her speech and I head to the microphone, reading it and someone shouts at me to read it. I look up to see who it was, and it was someone I didn't know. The speech goes as this: _There is no way I can explain how I feel. I treated her horribly, and made her think I looked at her like she was last season's fashion style. That was what I thought. But she saw me as another enemy. Someone that deserved to die. The Games destroy the people we fall in love with, and we still watch them. Demanding more. We can't make up our minds in this world, let alone the Capitol. From now on, I resign as escort. From here on out, I'm reconsidering my life. Sincerely, Amaza Flinch._

I don't know what to say. What to think. I fold it up and keep it for safe keeping. The man continues to shout for me to read it, and people near him are telling him to be quiet. To shut up. So, I give him what he wants. I step closer to the microphone, letting it kiss my lips as my lips move against it, remembering Zeke. With a proud and powerful voice, I answer. "Long Live Katniss Everdeen."


	11. The Conclusion

No resistance follows. No one argues. The Peacekeepers aren't attacking me. The Mayor approving of this as he sits in a chair, who was watching the scenes unfold before him. Death-like silence follows instead before everyone presses their fingers against their lips, whistling Rue's note, all at once as if it was planned. I begin to smile once again, whistling back, grabbing the microphone and shouting the four words even louder. Hours later, I find myself in the Victor's Village. More beautiful than my apartment. It has everything I'd ever hope to need. I take a tour for myself, running my fingers through the bed on my bedroom. Feeling the soft, securing grasp it offers. I slide on top of the covers, not getting under them yet. I rest my head on the reassuring pillows. Like I'm sleeping on a cloud. I close my eyes and allow myself time to relax. To lose myself in this moment. Not long after I do, I hear a knock on my door. I get up and go back to the door, opening it to see Rissa. Good as new. She half-heartedly smiles at me, lunging towards me and giving me a hug, kicking the door closed with her boot. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

She removes herself from me and answers back. "Because I didn't like how we were friends when this whole thing started, and then I tried to kill you."

I frown at the floor as Rissa speaks again. "When I abandoned your group, I didn't want to do what I did to you, but I just lashed out at you and everything just came out."

I look back up at her and she covers her face with her hands. I tell her to look at me in the calmest voice I can. "It's all right."

She doesn't understand what's going on, and she asks, heartbrokenly. "How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I've had a lot of time to think. Neither of us will enjoy any of this unless one of us is calm about this. Unless someone takes the initiative to tell the other person that everything's all right."

Rissa smiles back, cracking three seconds after it's made. "Thank you."

She wipes away a tear before it comes out and she thanks me again. "You don't know how much this means to me."

She scratches her head and tells me something else. "How can you do this? You got the blunt of Wayden's plan and the Games, and you're telling me everything's all right?"

"I did things like this before I met you."

Rissa snickers back at me and gives me a short hug, reminding me when she breaks away from it. "Me, Mez, and Zeke are in separate Victor's Villages that other people think are uninhabited. You're free to stop by if you want sometime."

I smile back at her, snickering. "Thank you, Rissa."

"Thank Zeke. He was the one who convinced Wayden."

"When I get the chance I will."

She shakes her head in approval and walks out of the house, telling me goodbye. Must've been an interesting argument trying to make a new arrangement considering that people may get curious what's going on when I'm jumping from Village to Village. _Extra Storage._ I'd ask. That'd only work for so long. That's my excuse for now, anyways. Fitz and Eura must be behind the scenes somewhere, working on orchestrating the Rebellion. So long as they're safe. I hear a four-note Rue whistle coming from my TV as if it's been written into a song. _For the Rebellion?_ I think. I go to my television screen and find the Mockingjay in flight is fixed. _Capitol. _I remember Katniss, how Fitz implied she was still alive. The hijacking. _Oh God. No. No._ The Mockingjay in flight burns off the screen, revealing Katniss Everdeen herself. The banner on the screen at the bottom says _New Capitol President: Katniss Everdeen._ She wears an white, long gown, sleeveless. A Mockingjay bracelet on each wrist. Her hair's done nicely. Her eyes are marked to reflect a bird. Her skin is flawless. And her voice is proud and powerful. "Greetings, citizens of Panem! My name, is Katniss Everdeen. The girl you once knew as the Girl On Fire. Who was once your so-called, _Mockingjay._"

I can go ahead and forget about thinking using the Mockingjay would bring her back. Snow thought of everything. "In the coming days, you will no doubt wonder why I am here. I will answer that question today, simply saying. I still _am_ your _Mockingjay._ You put your faith in a girl that you thought could overthrow the Capitol. To save everyone. I have changed, but I am still your Mockingjay. With the generosity of the Capitol, I have experienced life in a new light. For those of you who had rebelled against us, remember this."

Her voice lower and a little quieter, but speaks loud enough that her voice carries through the microphone. I cling to every word, every lie. She's become just like Snow. The thought of her being a president breaks me. Knowing she's like Snow makes my blood bubble it's boiling so much. My senses feel as if they're being warped in this moment of mayhem I never saw coming. And wish I had. "You blindly followed a leader that would bring you peace. Freedom. I still offer the same thing. Join the Capitol, and you will know why the world can change for the better. Follow your leader. And become one with the force to grow a stronger, better Capitol. Let us always remember, that from now on, for generations and generations more."

I'm already fragmented beyond repair, and Katniss's next words shatter me even more. What may have been Snow's final words. What were my words once. How they're twisted by the face of the Rebellion, now the face of Panem's Capitol. Her voice proud again, but her words terrifying. The cameras adjusted to a point where she's looking right at the screen. Looking back at me through the television. Like she's talking to me more than anyone else. "There will always be a Mockingjay."

And as if that wasn't enough, she ends the broadcast with Rue's whistle tone, with Snow's voice at the back of my head. _Even when you think you've beaten me in life, I beat you in death. Sincerely, and emphatically, your dear and ever faithful, President Snow._


	12. Part II Prologue: Ignite the Spark

_Prologue_

"_A darker Capitol needs an even darker plan." - Filmlia Treen_

It's in the middle of Winter here, and it's been longer than four months since the Games. I didn't know what to do with myself afterwards, and Katniss being the President of the Capitol just made things worse. I can't wear my braid out anymore, reverting it to it's messy style I used to have before the braid. Nor can I display my pin in public without someone trying to stone me, beat me, cut me, or burn me. I just keep waiting for them to bury me in snow. Because that's what Snow has done to Katniss. Buried her under six feet of snow, ignored her screams for help as Katniss broke free, returning to the world with a frozen heart. Frozen mind. Frozen spirit. Frozen world. And now there _is_ no way to save her from being hijacked. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that there's a way.

I occupy myself by trying to keep my mind off of my problems, training my Archery skills with a vengeance. Sometimes I just do nothing, sitting around my new house, thinking of what I'm going to do with my life as a Mentor. Sometimes I neglect my necessities such as water, food, sleep. I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. All I do when I sleep is thrash around, have nightmares about the Games, about Katniss. There was a spark for the rebellion, and now it's snuffed out. There is no rebellion anymore. There is no leader. No face. No spark. Nothing. And the Mockingjay was supposed to be the symbol of the rebellion. _Nothing now. She's one of them._ There's nothing I can do either. Nothing but watch the world freeze over.


	13. Talk At Victor's Village

The feeling of the world has already started to grow colder than humanly bearable, and it must only be me who feels Snow's presence over my shoulder. People bundled up, sure. But I was the one who screams when I feel even a snowflake fall on me. I couldn't even touch snow without gloves on. I felt like every time I went outside I had to burn my clothes.

I had no idea I'd change so much after the Games. After Snow's death. Panem shook like an earthquake when Katniss revealed she was still alive, and what she was doing with her time. All evidence of the rebellion had been wiped out, and there's been no word from anyone else about attempts to even recite one. Let alone breathe it. No matter what anyone does, when they try to support the Mockingjay, they support the Capitol from now on. _Oh, the weather outside is frightful. And the fire is do delightful. And since we've no place to go. Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!_

I remember that song one year at Christmas, the first and only Christmas in years. Just Gabby, me, my mother, and my father. I remember that song vividly because my father sang it. And now even _that_ is corrupted. This can't be happening. I have to be dreaming. I've pinched myself so many times I have bruises on my arm.

My mother carried out the promise I gave her for being strong to the best of her ability. When Gabby wasn't around, when he was somewhere else because of fear or hurt, or at someone else's house, my mother snapped when he left. Occasionally having a heart attack and is put on life support ever since the Games. Seeing that shark pop out and watching me go through all that crap damaged her psyche even more and she couldn't handle the madness that unfolded. I bet a lot of people couldn't. Merissa seems to be adjusting okay, aside from the usual nightmares, and I can hear her screams in the night. Passing through my windows as if they'd break one day. Ezekiel comes by every now and then to check up on me. He seems to be fairing better than the rest of us. Unless he's better at hiding his emotions than I thought. Mezchi had to get a brain transplant, so now he lives out the rest of his life with someone else's brain. He's like a different person now. The opposite of what he was before. Even if he can be a little mentally challenged. It's a good thing I really don't have to make a lot of excuses because not a lot of people come by here. And because I really don't feel like making them in the first place.

One day, I end up in my bedroom, trying to sleep away the world. To go ahead and get the Victory Tour over with so I can have something else to do. But the living conditions in the Victor's Village are better than average. As I rest on my bed, I hear people knocking on my door. Must be them. When I open the door, I'm right. My co-stylists, Trent, and Amaza are here. Wayden probably had to be elsewhere. I give everyone the check-by-cheek kiss, even Trent, but I end up hugging _him_ instead. "You look stronger." Compliments Trent. And I am. Archery and Exercising has formed me into a stronger, better machine. Got nothing else to do with my life as is. Iris joins in, too. Just not as dedicated as I am. With times ranging from ten at night to five in the morning. Iris usually checks up on me at my village from time to time, or pretty much everyday, and I've told her about the Victory Tour, and how I'll be gone for a while. I'll be presenting a eulogy for the fallen tributes for the respected districts; my district being last, and a celebration at the President's Mansion. Still Snow's mansion despite his death. However, I believe it'll be called Mockingjay Mansion sooner or later, unless it already is. I know I could somehow bring her back, someway, someday. I don't know how since she's so lost, so far gone. So lost she's hopeless.

Iris hasn't taken the news of her being president very well either. I end up visiting her sometimes at our normal locations, her house, or my new house. Iris is almost as broken up as I am. She doesn't cry, though. She's probably worn out all of those tears. She manages her daily routine easier than I do, and has more to do. I forget about school. About work. Only remembering how miserable I feel. Iris has changed into someone I didn't expect to see in only a course of a year, let alone at least a month. I remember how she was more joyful. The one to balance out my hatred against the Capitol for watching all those Games as a kid, but my mother always covered my eyes. Gabby had to be babysat. I never left in spite of fear, and I stayed when she couldn't. When it was too much to watch. As a kid, I didn't understand it all. As I grew up, I did, and it all registered one day all or, if any, what I remembered of the Games as a kid. Nightmarish. Relentless. Ruthless. Gladiatorial display of power to see who can kill someone the fastest, or in the most memorable way. Or a savage attempt to see who can jab their knife into someone's eye, and see what screams they make when they do. Or see how you can take down a brute on illegal steroids with two Shock Arrows, busting his ear drums and frying his brain they're so far in.

Rissa had the right idea, though. I'm lost in thought and my co-stylists are shaking me, calling my name and I snap out of my daze. "I'm sorry. What?" I ask. The male co-stylist, I've been trying to forget about their names since males shouldn't wear Effie Couture. Gravin, is it? I think so. "We were just wondering what you thought of this look."

As I snap back to my senses, I remember about me telling Caesar about my experience in the Victor's Village, how I'm doing, and what I'm doing now. As expected, they tell me to act _natural._ As natural as I can be with how I'm handling things.

Gravin gives me the piece of paper and I look at it. Surprisingly enough, it's not a Shock Dress. Or anything electricity related. It's Capitol Couture. Knee-length skirt with black leggings. Small heels because I never did like walking in heels, so I'm glad to hear that they've shortened them. When I was walking around in them, trying to get used to them, I'd always face plant the floor. I had to use Trent as a means of steadying myself. A blue, small, elegant bracelet on my left hand. A black and blue top with sleeves that has fabric attached to the arm that connects to the top. Like bird wings, almost. Just no feathers. And it's like mini-curtains. The top's color scheme is split down the middle, so my right side is black, whereas the other is blue. And of course, fix my hair. My co-stylists are complaining about the state my hair is in, and I tell them I had no choice. They can agree with the circumstances. They keep haranguing me for my input on the costume. The anticipation is killing them. I tell them after a while, enjoying watching them meltdown in front of me like I'm the most important person in the world. When I tell them I really like it, they let out a sigh of relief, wiping the tears from their eyes. Probably fake, but then again…

Mulika, I think, remarks. "It's delightful that you love the look. We're using you to introduce our new clothing line."

Surely I should've seen this one coming. Since I didn't, it's not that big of a deal when I find it out. Something tells me, with how the Capitol reacted to Trent's masterpieces, even with the fury of the 76th Hunger Games, they really craved the clothing line. Like a Tesla Coil, sending wavelengths throughout the populace, electrifying them. And as the tingles began to overexcite every fiber of their being, they released all that excitement, projecting it towards me. _If only everyone else were that easy to win over._ What with how the districts are now, no one's going to even think about a rebellion anymore. Let alone breathe a whisper. _There is no leader_. I tell myself that whenever I think I have a chance of doing something. I could be my own symbol, and no pin needed. I could be the voice. This time, I'm not finishing what Katniss started. This time, I have to do it all for myself. Experience what it was like to try and recite a rebellion myself.

Everyone gets to work and little less than an hour passes, the look is done. They _really_ made it faster for me. _Didn't want to keep their muse waiting, I guess._ I'm confused as of how I'm glad about this. Being beautified even quicker is something new for me, and I'll have to think about how I feel about this later. For now, I look at myself in the mirror and I'm beautiful. A beautiful only they can make. I haven't seen myself as beautiful lately. More like fragmented. "You. Look. Fabulous!" Cheers Mulika.

We hear Caesar's voice outside, and everyone rushes me along, through the door and into the Village. No doubt Mez, Zeke, and Rissa were told to stay inside their houses, away from the cameras. Something else hits me like a blizzard. They're still alive, still here to visit me, but they can never see they're families ever again. Should they _ever_ see them again, they'll have to explain the reasoning behind it, breaking their hearts. Another negative side to this whole arrangement. I don't feel like doing much, but I make an effort of it. It's snowing outside, and I tell myself not to freak out in front of everyone. Caesar's not here, though. Only as a camera. His voice is coming through it. He greets me and as soon as I greet him, a snowflake lands on my shoulder. I jump like two feet and pat the snowflake off of me. _Focus. Relax._ Caesar clears his throat and asks. "Are you all right?"

I try to compose myself. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you, Caesar."

"All right, if that's the case. Tell us about how your life here back in Five!"

I decide to lie for his sake, and to make it look like I'm enjoying myself. "It's wonderful, actually. I've taken some time to myself and,"

I look to my right to see the houses my friends would be in, swallowing the lump in my throat and continuing. "I've begun treatment to becoming a better, healthier person."

Caesar acknowledges my sincerity, and me feeling better than normal, letting out a laugh before he asks me. "Now, tell me. Am I wrong in thinking that you're actually more in shape than when we last talked?"

"Oh, yes. You're right."

"Good. You look _fierce!_"

He asks for approval from the crowd and turns his attention back to me. Asking a serious question as the music in the background slowly fades out, wanting my opinion on Katniss being the new President. Death engulfs this white, snowy plane. I know I can't lie on this one. I have to tell the truth. My composure slipping. And I can't stop it. "Pathetic."

My co-stylists let out gasps, Amaza's expression is unchanging, and Trent frowns at the floor. So do I. Caesar must know I've lied about what I said, and he continues. "All right, um…"

He tries to continue. He clears his throat and adds. "That. Will be all for tonight, folks."

The cameras turn off and move away. I'm frozen in place and no one comes to get me. I turn to my right again to look at Rissa's face, through a window. The look on her face says she agrees with what I said. I'm whisked away back to my house and the crew undresses me, setting the costume on my bed, reminding me that the Victory Tour is in a couple of days. As they leave, I noticed how they didn't say much of anything after what I said back to Caesar. There was nothing else that needed to be said. I shut the door hard enough I think I'd unhinge the door frame. I head to my bedroom and look at my dress, holding it in my hands and throwing it across the room, dismounting a vase of flowers that collapse to the ground. The vase shattering. I cover my face with my hands, not crying, but grimacing. I mess my hair up to fix it back to the way it was, and as I look around the room, I see a Mockingjay Pin still on a table. I clench it in my hands as I go outside, bury it under the snow, and go on with my life.


	14. Victory Tour

"Here's your speech." Amaza hands me a small piece of paper with words that go as follows: _Greetings, residents of 'said district.' Regardless of your losses, know that you have a chance to win the next Games. Never forget, how the Games unite us all. How our-_I stop reading and I'm about to crumble up the piece of paper when Wayden stops me, who's sitting beside me. "What do you think you're doing?"

I know we've had our differences, and I find myself disagreeing with him yet again. "If you've read this, you'd know why."

"I have, and it's something I have to deal with."

I scoff. Wayden leans forward in his chair, crossing his hands together and as he presses down on his hands, they end up popping. His nails digging into his hands. "Filmlia, you're not seriously considering this, are you?" Pain and a hint of anger hides in his voice, but he keeps it quiet. And he probably knows what I'm thinking. Defy everything the Capitol puts in front of me that can make things even worse. Then again, what I could do may not be any better. Not that it'd help anyway. Either way, I confess. "I am."

Wayden looks like he could pull his hair out, and Amaza asks. "Do what?"

"Rebelling." Answers Wayden.

Amaza shoots me a disapproving look. "You think that's wise?"

"I don't care."

I know they mean well, but they can't see things like I do. And I'd wish they would. Whatever the case, I try to shake this conversation from this mind, everything from my mind, and focus on what the hell I'm going to do from here. I want to be myself so I walk around the train again, ending up in the last car. What I wonder is, is how the Games take place every year, not every four months. Must've been more rule changes. Disallowing people the chance to recover from the 76th Hunger Games.

In the moment I walk inside the car, I remember how Rissa and I chatted amongst ourselves. Together. I never found out what happened to her mother. I'll ask her after the Tour. And after the party at the mansion. Celebrating the fact that kids just killed other kids, and mentoring other kids to do the same. It sickens me to the extent where I really feel that I'll actually vomit on the floor of the car. And I do end up doing it, but nothing comes out. The force of the cough is stiffening, and I collapse to my knees, hacking up what food I've eaten so far. The joules of the coughs is almost blinding. I hallucinate Zeke coming to my aid, and as soon as I lean in for a kiss, Wayden shouts at me, telling me to wake up. That we've arrived in District Eleven. He sees my hair is a mess and I've been sleeping almost beside my vomit, the smell horrid in my nose. My neck is stiff. I force myself up and uncover the hair from my face. Wayden looks like he'll cuss me out, and I wait for him to do it. He tries to compose himself, and tries to fix my hair back with his hands. I smell alcohol in his breath. It's not making anything any better after I had been sleeping beside my vomit for who knows how long, and it'll be stuck in my nose for the rest of the day. I desperately need to lightly sniff some roses as to not shove any of the horrid smells into my nostrils. Wayden begins to get frustrated and leaves my hair the way it is, putting his hands up in the air like he's surrendering. And walks out of the room, telling me to get ready to face the cameras. Joking. "Surprised the smell in here didn't wake you up first."

When I look at District Eleven for the first time, in person, I find people picking crops and a giant wall beyond the field of crops. Must be skipping twelve because of the bombing. When we reach a stop, I've already reached the door before we do. Waiting to come out. When the doors open, Peacekeepers were doing the same thing, waiting. For me. I give them a glare as I walk out with my crew. As we're escorted, I look around and see the Peacekeepers are keeping an eye of me through those helmets of theirs. They even mimic the rhythm of my steps, the repetition in the motion. Moments pass and we're inside a small mansion. Amaza is behind me, waiting for the cue to tell me to go onto stage. A man is giving a speech, and then when he says, _the winner of the 76__th__ Hunger Games, Filmlia Treen!_ Amaza pats my back for good luck and Peacekeepers open the doors for me as I step out. I say thank you into the microphone and steel myself to read the speech. "Greetings, people of District Eleven. Regardless of your losses, know that you have a chance to win the next Games. Never forget, how the Games unite us all. How our-"

I get a lump in my throat and read the rest of the speech.

_Greetings, people of District Eleven. Regardless of your losses, know that you have a chance to win the next Games. Never forget, how the Games unite us all. How our losses reflect our future. But always remember, that there are better days to come. The Games. Don't be afraid of the future. Embrace it. Embrace that you will always have a chance to become a Victor, living out the rest of your life in the best way possible. Together, we make a better world. Together, we make the Mockingjay._

Katniss gave this to Amaza. She saw the Victory Tour as a perfect opportunity to let me read this. I put it in my pocket and go another route. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Eura."

Everyone looks at me, expecting more. So I give it to them. "I was a fool to think our alliance would last forever. And she was like a sister I never had. A sister that could've been saved. She was brave. Intuitive. Beautiful. And I'm sure, like me, I never got to say a proper goodbye."

A tear falls down my face and I continue. "But I know all of you believe she would've said it if she had the chance. She would've poured out her heart. She would've died for all of you."

I look down at another piece of paper I put in my pocket. Names of the district tributes who died. "I didn't know Megan,"

I look at her family who is standing in front of a billboard facing up with Megan's face looking right at me. All four faces are looking at me. Megan's family consists of two brothers and two sisters, and a rugged father. Her sons and daughters look like they're all but fourteen. They could be going into the next Games for all I know. Megan's face looks dangerous. But her family's faces and composure show that she could've been more. The only Eleven girl left, and must've been the one who cut Eura with her fingernails. I look at Asha's family, a medium-sized brute with one sister and an able-bodied mother. Thirty. "I didn't know Asha, except that he hated the Games. And,"

I look at Savva's face. Looks like he was fifteen. Then his family, only consisting of a crying mother, mourning over the death of her only child. The tears are coming earnestly now. I feel so heartbroken, so guilty of my family. "I'm so sorry."

People as far as the eye can see, all listening to me. All looking up at me. Their minds more than likely on nothing else but my voice. The inside of me melting a little as I think of what else I'm supposed to do. I fold my thumb over my hand, making a four-finger salute as I whistle a four-note tone that starts out low, rising in pitch in the same tone. I wait for someone to follow my lead, and I only end up looking at nothing. _We believe you, but we can't believe in you._ I slowly reposition my hands back to normal, letting them fall to my side, relaxing. _They're afraid._ Like my crew was. _And they'll keep being afraid. Even them_. Least I won't have to do this for all the districts. The emotional toll on my body and mind feels worse than the physical does, and my exertion is only exasperating it. I allow the Peacekeepers to escort me to my cart with Amaza and Wayden already inside. Back to the trains. I _could_ it for all the districts, but not all of them will cooperate like Eleven did. And I'm right. And after what Katniss did, they're less than likely to follow someone who supported her. I forget my speech I was given and recite the speech from Eleven, thinking it'd make things better. It doesn't, and some districts' Peacekeepers start gunning down people in the crowd where they stand when they start throwing food and wine bottles at me. Everyday is a new district. And every night is a new nightmare. Every. Single. Night.

I wake up, after enough nightmares one day, with uncoordinated steps, my eyes heavy, and my hands unable to grip my speech properly and I have trouble focusing. More people throwing things at me. More people gunned down. More people cussing me out live. More nightmares. Repeat. Four even kills a Peacekeeper when they pry him from his post, and surround him in the crowd, beating him to a pulp. If I wanted a Rebellion, I have the wrong kind. They're fighting back, just not in the way I'd want them to.

Three has better results, finally. Kinda. I recite the Eleven Speech and, as another upside, the tributes' families all have a family. Almost. But it's good enough. I look at Fitz and remember how much of an ally he was to me in the Games. When I salute, Fitz's little brother, who is mounted on a mother's shoulder, salutes back. I look at the Peacekeepers below me. _I swear, if you kill that boy, I'll kill you._ he looks to be no older than five.

My body shakes with fear, thinking they'd actually kill him. My mind spins around in my head as a Peacekeeper heads towards him, and then, in this moment of desperation, more people start to join in, whistling back. _One district out of Twelve, and one out of a thousand chances it'd happen._ The Peacekeepers are even worse under Katniss then under Snow. The tributes' families are all saluting, and a Peacekeeper on stage whacks me in the back with his Baton, knocking me to my knees and I hear him readying his gun. I gulp hard and tell myself that I tried. Everyone has their heads ducked, no doubt remembering or watching what happened to the other districts. They're cooperating. Then as the Peacekeeper is about to pull the trigger, one robust black man, about 6 '1,' stands up and shouts, _NO!_ I frown even more at the floor of the stage and let out a tear of despair. _You shouldn't have stood up._ I look at him as I hear gunshots. They're bouncing off of him. _Body armor. He came prepared._ He tries to make it to the stage as fast as he can to stop the Peacekeepers, and as soon as I sense that he's going to pull the trigger, I do something about it. I spin on my heel and grab the gun, pointing it upwards so he fires at the sky. Even more quiet falls onto the district, and then the other Peacekeeper fires at my abdomen, escorting me to the cart and throwing me onto the train. "Hey there, kiddo."

Wayden's beside the door, obviously remembering all the other times I've been thrown onto the train. He has the couch littered with wine bottles from all the trips to the districts. I force myself to sit on the couch and slide away the bottles, frowning at the ground. "Two more districts."

"The last two Career districts. One with Stone's father."

Wayden lets out a moan and drinks up some more. So do I. I've drunk four wine bottles in seven days, Wayden's drunk more in more days. In doing so, I throw away those hours of training, gulping down the alcohol. The fire burning me on the inside, making it even worse. Remembering the Girl On Fire. I end up laughing about it afterwards. I chug down almost half of the bottle and come out gasping for air, Wayden trying to stop me. "You really shouldn't do this to yourself."

Every fiber of my being on fire, and I can't think straight with the alcohol fogging my mind. "Why? It feels good."

My voice a little droopy. "You don't think, I want this? I want this."

Wayden grabs the bottle and snatches it out of my hand, and we end up fighting over the bottle, eventually falling to the ground and Amaza walks into the car, shouting at us. "You're acting like children!"

I let go of the bottle and grab an empty one on the couch, raising it up into the air and laughing. "Want a, do you want,"

I feel so bubbly, so foggy, so weak, I give into the temptation of more alcohol, tipping the bottle down to get the last drop at the bottom. When I get impatient, I smash the bottle against the couch and throw the shards away, collapsing to the ground and laughing, hiccupping. Amaza tries to pick me off the ground and drags me away from Wayden. I end up laughing the whole way, and I ask her. "Where are we going? I hope it's somewhere nice like the Hunger Games."

I laugh my head off after saying that and fight Amaza's grip on me, telling her to let go of me and Amaza grabs my shoulders, me fighting her grip and Amaza trying to shout over me. Telling me I'm better than this. Telling me I'm stronger than this. I shout over her after a while. "You're just another….Capitol scum….Why should I…listen to what….to what you…have to….say…"

I wake up from my drunkenness in my bedroom at home. Feeling even more hung over than usual. It's like nighttime outside, probably really late. My mind's still recovering._ The worse the pain, the better the alcohol feels, the worse you feel afterwards._ That's what I think anyways. Zeke walks into my house unannounced and probably heard what happened. The fire inside of me beginning to settle, make me uneasy, my body disagreeing with me horribly. I rush to the bathroom, and as soon as Zeke lets out my name, I'm vomiting in the toilet for maybe hours. When I'm done, Zeke comes to my aid and my hair and my body is a mess. I've gone through so much stress, so much consumption of alcohol, my body's muscle structure has degraded and I'm like rubber for all I care. My crew and my friends say I may have actually aged exponentially. I'm eighteen, I look twenty-one. Or so. Without makeup. _Premature aging._ But I have a feeling it's more likely the pain than the booze. Zeke grabs me by the wrist and escorts me out of the bathroom and into the hallway, hugging me tightly and I can sense the pain in his voice. Too definite to hide. "I'm so sorry about what's happened to you."

I don't try to interrupt him, I don't feel like talking anyways. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you. Just two more districts. You can make it, and afterwards, I'm all yours. Deal?"

I can't argue with that, and I know the answer I should say. I give him a reassuring squeeze in the hug for an answer, _Yes._ Zeke snickers and continues speaking. "Know that I love you."

I begin to cry a little, and I try to speak. Zeke pulls away from the hug and shushes me. "Don't speak. They need your voice. Weak or not, they need it. The other districts will be watching you, and they need to know that you're being strong on camera."

I nod for approval and he gives me a kiss. Three seconds later, removing himself from my vomit/alcohol flavored lipstick. I whisper to him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

He doesn't know he's been kissing the same lips four days in a row now, and Zeke recovers. "There's nothing you can do that can convince me you wouldn't do the same to me if you had the chance."

He's right. It's repulsive, but it's true. "I have some food if you're still willing to eat something. And you _do_ need to eat, you know."

I nod for approval, and take this as a chance of rebuilding myself, to start recovery. I head over to his house and Mez and Rissa are already there. We dig into the elegant, exotic food and everyone notices me stuffing myself. Rissa asks. "When was the last time you've eaten something?"

I swallow my food and answer back. "Five meals every week, excluding weekends."

Mez whistles in shock, remarking. "I thought you'd be smarter than that."

"Blame the Games. Blame Katniss."

I jab my fork into the chicken and afraid I almost broke the plate. "Easy." Calms Rissa. "And blame the Capitol for sending me on this godforsaken Victory Tour."

"It's not that bad when you get to the Mansion, from what I've heard." Smiles Rissa. "You get all that food and get treated way better there."

"Some of them would probably rape me." I remind.

Zeke exhales deeply. "Let's think positive, all right?"

I try to take some deep breaths and try to take his advice. "Deep breaths. Focus. Think of something good that's happened." He finishes. Mez keeps eating, and Rissa tries to help. "Like how you lose yourself with a bow and arrow."

"Not alw-"

I take a second to stop myself, to try and recover. "Yeah."

I get back to eating the heaping mass of a chicken with some light yellow sauce sprinkled on top of it, and probably inside of it, too. My stomach's killing me, literality, like it'll eat me from the inside, and I keep eating. "Eat what you can. Tomorrow's District Two."

When I finish, in the middle of the night, I wake up and get my bow and arrows I have stuffed underneath my bed, and go out into the night. I activate a switch that switches the bow to a flashlight. A Black and Blue Tech Bow Fitz had sent me one day, complete with Tech Arrows, too. That's in my other quiver, though. I take the quiver with the normal arrows. I go to one of my training locations and start firing. My skills are a little rusty, and I don't always fire at the right spot I need to. Sometimes firing outside the middle, sometimes I do, oftentimes not, and sometimes more off than I need to. I keep going. Before long, my body's tired. After about twenty minutes or so. I tell myself to keep going, and I almost sense someone walking my way. With my memory, it might just be Iris. Usually coming here every now and then to sleep when she can't sleep at her house. She sees my poor archery skills and I stop to talk to her. "I would laugh, but it'd be too easy."

I give her a glare through the shadows. She can't see it, but she probably feels it. "Haven't seen you here in a while."

I put the arrow I had in my hand back in my quiver and remark. "Yeah, well…"

I have a feeling she's going to hug me, and she doesn't. "I've been busy."

"Why'd they drop you off here? You're supposed to be on tour."

"I needed a break." I answer back.

I take a deep breath and think about what she said. The only way it could've been possible. A Rebel Driver. Or someone that knew me. I hold the ends of my bow and grip it tightly, it recognizing my body chemistry and collapsing as the crevices slide into the bow, putting it in my pocket. "That is,"

Iris sees through the lights mounted on the trees, seeing the bow is pocket compatible. "Wow."

"Fitz Topher, District Three."

"Can I see it?"

"It's only coded to me. Sorry." I apologize.

She smiles back. "It's okay. Safer that way. Can you ask Fitz to make me one?"

"Sure." I reply.

I take a deep breath and try to fire backwards without looking, Iris shakes her head in disapproval. "Almost."

The next day, I'm whisked away to the trains to head to District Two. My body's sore from last night. Twenty minutes after Iris left, which was a couple of hours or so, I kept training. We just talked about the usual. How our family's doing, friend stuff. Not talking about the districts or anything of that nature. It felt good. Wayden slept on the floor, coated in alcohol. I do feel sorry for him, but maybe I should teach him Archery, too. Teach him how to deal with pain. Even if I'm still recovering myself, and I may not be the best at it. I shout Wayden's name and, when my voice isn't enough, I grab a wine bottle, still full, and get out a pot, pouring out the remains. I put the pot under a faucet in cold water, grabbing a giant spoon to mix together the warm and the cold. When I'm done, I step a few feet back just in case, and bathe Wayden in the liquid. He jumps up and throws a wine bottle my direction. I use my pot as a shield and put it down when he's done throwing them, or when he comes to. I put the pot on a nearby table and Wayden shouts. "What the hell is going on?"

"We're on our way to District Two."

Amaza had to escort me to the trains, along with some Peacekeepers, of course. I'm getting tired of them to be honest. "Oh." Wayden remarks, smiling. Then it hits him, he comments in a weaker voice. "Oh."

He's breathing heavily and I go to hug him, telling him how everything will be fine. "You don't know that."

_How did he win the Games? And which one was it?_ I ask him this and he answers. "I don't want to talk about it."

I pull away from him and make my way to the door to exit into Two, shouting on the way out of the car. "Think about it."

I hear him scoff as I exit the car and I hope he knows that I'm trying. District Two is a nightmare, and people in the crowd start firing guns at me. _Of course. Masonry. Very funny._ I couldn't even finish my speech and the Peacekeepers escort me off stage before anything bad happens. Or before anything worse happens. Halfway through my speech, I see Stone's father coming off of his platform and making his way towards me. I look at the Peacekeepers around me. They're not acting. They wanted to keep me alive so Stone's father can what? Kill me live? I get my answer when he comes on stage and punches my temple, knocking me to the ground with a thud loud enough to be heard over the crowd's incessant pleas for the so-called, _Father Figure,_ to kill me. He wraps his hands around my throat with an iron grip. If I were Rissa, he'd have pounded my face in instead of giving me a slow, painful, breathless death. The crowd continues to scream at him to squeeze tighter. The whole thing can be seen on the billboards that used to show the tributes' faces, now switching to the action at different angles. Four different ways to watch me die. Fighting back would be wrong considering he lost his son. Can't fight back even if I tried. He's even more hulked-up than his son is. Almost three times more buff.

I wait for death, and the next thing I know, liquid sprays my face and Stone's father's eyes have shards from a wine bottle in them. Wayden. I try to catch my breath and watch Wayden take on the beast by himself, with his own bare hands. The man is blinded, and keeps attacking blindly. Wayden grabs a shard stuck in his eye, ripping it out and cutting his eye socket off with the shard. After he does that, I hear a thud onto the stage and don't bother looking at his face. I don't bother looking at much afterwards. Watching Wayden do what he did has traumatized me, and I bet I'll never get that vision out of my head. I'm shuttering of fear, and I can't tell myself that everything's okay. It'd be a lie. Silence falls throughout the entirety of the district, and the Peacekeepers at the door have taken a few steps back away from Wayden. I hear Wayden's voice against the microphone, and I shudder as I expect the unexpected. "You can take everything I have, give it back to me, and take it again. But _no one_ takes away what _you_ gave back to me. Capitol Scum."

I hear him spit into the crowd and takes me away to the train, skipping the cart. I open my eyes when Wayden brings me onto the train, taking me to a storage room and I'm still trying to catch my breath. Forget the brain-scarring image I just saw. Never minding the blood. That's the least of my worries right now. I keep clasping my face with my hands when we enter the room, telling him not to kill me. Not to rip out my eyes and cut the socket with a shard from a broken wine bottle. He tries to calm me down, to no avail. I try to tell myself to calm down, and I start with deep breaths, unable to think about something positive. Tears are streaming down my face and he gives me a hug, me shouting at him why he did what he just did. He detaches himself from me and clasps my mouth with his hand, still giving me the ability to breathe but gives me the chance to let him talk. "We need to talk. Now."

We hear chatter through the walls in the storage room, once they leave, he continues talking. Me trying to steady my breaths, forcing myself to. "I won the 55th Hunger Games at sixteen. I had fallen in love with someone while I was training for the Games, and made some allies. But when the gong sounded, their first move was to kill me. I ran away from them, hid out of sight, and worked on making a plan. I didn't have much to work with, so I improvised with what I had. It was down to just me, and my allies, and I had watched the love of my life die before my eyes the day before. The battle was brutal, and I was lucky to have my limbs attached after the battle. Or, what limbs I still had left."

I unclasp my face and look at Wayden. My breaths steadier now and Wayden pauses, moaning as he tries to finish. "It was down to my best friend, and me. We were both missing a hand, we were losing blood, and our bodies were scarred. He begged me to kill him, begged me to end his life before it got any worse. I refused, so he took his knife and slit his throat in front of me."

He frowns at the floor and more tears fall down my face, but I don't breakdown or anything like that. Surprisingly. "I had to face the families at the Victory Tour, and I promise you, it was nothing but a nightmare. After the Games, after the Tour, I had taken up drinking, isolated myself from the world, and didn't bother making friends with anyone because I knew that someday, somewhere, somehow, I'd have to watch them die. So now you know everything you need to know about me."

He lets go of my shoulders, which, have grip marks on them now. Wayden leans against a wall, breathing heavily but slowly. I look at Wayden with pain in our eyes, and my body melts. Knowing how he'd never see the world the same way again, never close his eyes without seeing his friend slitting his throat, the love of his life. The Tour. Everything. Haunting his being. I say with a scratch in my voice. "I'm sorry, Wayden."

Wayden rubs his face with his hands and flashes a hand at me, telling me. "Don't be."

He lets his hands fall to his sides and he leans over, putting his hands on his bent knees, and as quiet surrounds this room like a virus, I decide to break through it. "You deserve so much better."

"Yeah, like what?"

"A chance to have your life worth something more."

Wayden shoots me a disturbed look. "You just watched me cut someone's-"

"I know, I know. It's just,"

I try to think about what exactly I was supposed to say, and then I say it. "You don't deserve any of this. I don't care what you've done, no one should have to go through something like that."

Wayden smiles back, and looks at me with compassion, replying back. "You'd be the first."


	15. Celebrating At the President's Mansion

We're on our way to the Mockingjay Mansion, which is what I've taken up calling it. It's not just the President's Mansion anymore. I've been dressed up for this occasion, in more Capitol couture. But fits my theme more. Caring. Vengeful. Compassionate. And Electrifying. So they've created it accordingly. I feel more comfortable in it, even more so since this one doesn't have heels. The suit is black, skin tight, has a scale pattern. The suit has a single electric pattern that starts on my left rib cage, going down and then moving to the right and to my spine, down my right leg to the back of my knee. And another strip of light that looks like a necklace with electricity surging through it. It's sleeveless, except for the long, elegant glove with a chic light strip pattern, but with not a lot of swirls. A waist cape that falls to my ankles, sharing the same pattern as my gloves. Keeping the light strips to a minimum. And to top it all off, an electric pattern for eye makeup with light blue lipstick. I see the mansion in the distance and it's breathtaking. Beautifully futuristic. I _am _electrifying. And Vengeful. Not sure about the other qualities, but I don't spend that much time on it.

Amaza tells me to be nice, to _act _like I'm having a good time, and don't forget to take the drinks to get sick so I can keep on eating. "No thanks. I've had enough vomiting."

"How else can you go on eating?"

I made sure to starve myself just so I can chow down on better foods. And since I've done that, I'm glad I did. Because there's no way I'm eating all that, just imagining it all makes me hungrier. As we enter a gate, Amaza reminds me. "Now remember what I told you."

"All right."

I try to keep my mind on positive thoughts, and as I go through the gate, I see through the grates that there are hundreds upon hundreds of people just waiting to meet me. Screaming my name. Feeling my costume, jerking their hands back as if pretending my costume really is live. It may very well be. One man even grabs my cheeks and kisses me on the lips. I smile back and remember what Amaza said about acting nice, acting like I'm having a good time. So, to his unknowing, I grab his cheeks and kiss him back, romantically. When we remove ourselves from each other, I pretend to laugh out loud and the man faints. Everyone looks at him, and then I join in with the crowd, busting out into laughter. This actually _is_ fun. All those years of keeping my emotions to myself and sometimes lying has paid off, like I was practicing for this day. I get to the tables where everyone eats, and find I wasn't thinking big enough. There are literality plates of food as far as the eye can see, and I don't even know where to start. I'm surrounded by food and neon colors, switching schemes every now and then. I see a bubbly fountain and I ask what flows out of the top. Someone answers it's apple cider. I thank them with a kiss-by-cheek tradition, and go to indulge in the apple cider, leaning my head over the fountain, my mouth open, letting the liquid fall into my mouth. I end up laughing, and people cheer me on to drink even more. I feel as if I stuffed myself full with just the apple cider, stuffed from head to toe. Wayden catches sight of me and raises his glass to me, congratulating me. I really can't help but laugh, but to smile. This is the most fun I've ever had. The slow music starts and some people continue eating, some drinking from the apple cider fountain, and some dancing at a location designed for this with enough room to move around. I end up dancing with random people and ask them if they're having a good time, and I tell them I am, too. Before I notice it, I end up being the life of the party as men trip and fall over each other trying to get to me. Some trying to get a dance with me, some trying to kiss me. I have a feeling I'm going to get diseases from kissing all these people, so I play hard to get. Some get lucky shots in, and then an able-bodied man comes towards me. My heart stops as he gives me a long, passionate kiss. After fifteen minutes or so, I give Amaza an excited look and she gives me a thumbs up, smiling back. She looks like she's droopy. Drinking, maybe. The crowd urges me to continue on with the kissing, and the man and I keep the crowd waiting, letting them demand even more. The outside engulfed by screams of anticipation and lust at a frequency higher than the music. Then, about ten minutes into the kiss, we end up on the ground, kissing even longer.

Hours later, I find myself stuffed to the brim with an uncounted amount of food. I end up drinking champagne, which, luckily, doesn't burn going down. I dance with more random people, and sometimes I miss a beat and fall flat on my face, laughing my head off some more. I remark to the man I danced with who fell with me. "Isn't this great?!"

If I was looking to sell the moment, I think I just stole it instead. And it doesn't bother me. _Acting _like I'm having a good time while surrounded by people that are doing the same has helped me enjoy life at a magnitude I never have before. Helped me get my mind off of my problems. And being the life of the party assists more than I expected. Everyone wants to dance with me. Kiss me. Feed me more food. And give me more champagne after seeing me drink enough of it. I see people making their way somewhere, and Amaza comes to retrieve me, telling me about the Presidential Walk. I follow her lead and everyone lets me go in the front. I have a feeling I'm going to have to work even harder to get into shape after tonight. For tonight, indulge in the celebration. Katniss walks out of the mansion and onto a balcony, raising her glass to us. I'm too bubbly to think negative about her right now, so I act like everyone else, cheerful. "How is everyone doing tonight?!"

She shouts to the ground and me and everyone else, shout in joy and some of us fall down after we jump we're so tipsy. Katniss busts out laughing. She's under the influence of the champagne, too. My heart racing. "I would like to thank you all for coming tonight. And especially, the one who has brought this party to life, Filmlia Treen!"

She raises her glass to me, and I do the same to her. I find it's better this way. Showing her how unaffected I am by the Tour. By the Games. By her. I shout back. "Thank you for this momentous occasion!"

We end up laughing at each other and I end up almost falling as someone catches me, lifting me backup. "We look forward to what you can do in the future." Rejoices Katniss. She takes a long sip of her drink, gasping for air when she's done and throws the glass off the balcony, She raises an arm into the air, exclaiming as we all chime in. But not throwing away our glasses, of course. Hours later, I find myself back on the train. Hung over like it's my job. I'm in the back car, which has been cleaned up. I don't want to remember why. I just sleep on the couch, looking up at the roof, seeing the stars in the sky. I never expected the night at the Mockingjay Mansion to be so memorable. So thrilling. My human condition satisfied with all those kisses, letting go, and just enjoying myself. I'm still in my costume, and it's all right. I must've blacked out some time during the night and I had to be escorted to the trains. Despite being hung over, I feel the sensation one might feel after a good time at a party. I let out a sigh of relief and stare at the sky that shows signs of a sunrise. I sit up so I can see it while I can. It takes some time to sit myself up. I look through the glass and see all those wonderful colors, wondering how anything else could be anymore beautiful. So alluring. I'm left alone to see the sunrise. And it's exactly the way I want it. Amaza and Wayden are probably more hung over than I am. It doesn't faze me.

My mind focuses on the sunrise, watching it's evolution as it rises into existence. To power. Lighting this twisted world. A beacon of hope. I watch the entire phase and my body begins to grow stiff. I comfort myself in a more manageable position. As the beams of light penetrate the skyline, I see more beautiful colors. An awe-inspiring shade of orange. I smile at it and end up squinting as the light gets brighter. I begin to look up through the roof, watching the sky radiate with light. Wondering how anything else could be any different. When we reach home, everyone goes off wherever and I head to my house, fixing my hair a different way. A more refined way. So I grab my tools and get to work on my hair. Straightening out the hair, still leaving some _imperfections_ here and there. When it's all one, it looks great. Strands of hear slicked across my forehead to the right. I take some time to examine myself in the mirror, and see that I'm imperfect, but still beautiful. I head to Zeke's house and find him, sleeping in his bedroom as I look through a window. I knock on it and Zeke wakes up moments later. He sees the smile on my face, making his light up some. He goes outside and asks me with a smile on his face. "What's gotten you so happy?"

"I can tell you on the way."

"To where?"

I smile back at him, remarking. "Trust me."


	16. The Choice

We end up at one of my usual locations when I want to be myself, to think about what to do. It's a spacious landscape on the hillside of a mountain, giving us a view of a waterfall in the distance that goes to a Dam which is probably rebuilt by now, but I haven't been there in so long. I tell Zeke about what happened. The Mockingjay Mansion Party. The Sunrise. And all he has to say is, "So, you went through Hell on the Victory Tour; you got wasted at the Mockingjay Mansion, kissed a lot of dudes, drunk some apple cider; saw a sunrise, and you end up with an idea as of how to recite a Rebellion?"

I end up tilting my head back, laughing. When I'm done, I look at Zeke who can't help but laugh the same because the way he says it makes it sound even funnier. "Well, when you say it like that."

Zeke's smile grows a little wider, keeping it at bay as he speaks. "Honestly, I'd be surprised if I can read you anymore."

I can't help but smile back at him, and then our smiles fade as we look into each other's eyes.. "What's your plan? And what if it doesn't work?"

"Going back into the Games. It's the best way to get my face out there, aside from District Thirteen which, I don't think is still around."

What with the rebellion and all. But I've been wrong before. Zeke lets out an exhale, frowning at the ground. "Are you sure about this? You're a mentor now."

"I'll convince my team to send the tributes home and I go in their places when the Games start. Win or lose, I'll do whatever I can."

Zeke gives me a worried look. Even if he wouldn't agree with this, he can say he agrees with the intention. No matter how wrong it may seem. He gently rubs my cheek with his finger, curled, rubbing against my face. I put my hand in his and Zeke tries to cheer up the situation. "It's good to know that you were enjoying myself."

"Yeah." I reply softly, happily.

I cry a tear of joy and he wipes it away. I stop him before he has the chance and I smile back at him. "Let it fall."

He removes his hand from the path of the tear and I clasp his cheeks with my hands, leaning in to kiss him. We kiss for a while, and I slide my body closer to his. After a while, we return to our Victor's Village….to find it burnt down. The houses are gone. I stand beside Zeke as we stare at the chaos. _Burnt_.. Katniss. She mustn't have liked seeing me enjoying myself at the her party. "Where am I going to hide now?" I ask Zeke. Rissa and Mez probably evacuated. Unless one of them died or both of them did. "Where are the others?" I plea. Zeke bumps my arm and points to the bodies facing down in what snow there is left. _Don't be dead._ I roll over the bodies and see it's Rissa and Mez. Their faces blue. They had to hide somewhere. Zeke and I put our ears against their chests. Rissa's alive. Zeke shakes his head for Mez. "I'll tell Wayden to-"

"Don't."

I don't want anyone to change him anymore than he has. "Let him be."

Zeke winces a little, and rolls Mez's face back into the snow. I check Rissa's heartbeat again. It's very faint. She's alive. Barely. Judging by the color of the face and the chill bumps on the skin, the beat of the heart. I'd say she's been here about half an hour. I carry Rissa's body to my house and I tell Zeke to leave Mez's body here. "What about everyone knowing I'm still alive?"

"They'll just have to deal with it." 

I knew this wouldn't have lasted forever. When we get to my old house, Zeke opens the door for me and I carry Rissa's body to my bed, covering her with as many covers as I can to help her defrost. That's to say she _can _be saved. "Filmlia?"

Gabby's here, and he's looking up at Zeke. Zeke looks at me for what to do, and I tell him to get in the room with Rissa. I walk towards Gabby and squat down to his level, grabbing him by the shoulders lightly. "Why is he here? Why is he alive? Didn't he die?"

I frown at the floor and take a moment to answer, and when I do, I tell Gabby in the strongest, most calmest voice I can. "Do you know what Rebels are?"

"I do."

He may still be fourteen, but I can't underestimate him. Either he watched some of the Games this time and tragedy made him stronger, or it was caring for his dying mother. Giving her whatever she asks for. Gabby isn't breaking down like he used to. "Can you keep a secret?"

"What's going on?"

I close my eyes and try to tell him, closing them tightly and Gabby asks again. "Filmlia?"

"We're a part of a Rebel Plan. They're working behind the scenes when they can to try and orchestrate a Rebellion."

"Can I be a part of it?"

I squeeze his shoulders a little tighter and force myself to open my eyes, to look into his. "No, you can't."

"Why not?"

Gabby's eyes get a little watery, but he doesn't cry. We hear my mother scream. Must be waking up from a bad dream. When she stops, her screams get quieter and she fades back into sleep. I answer Gabby in the kindest way I can. "Because your mother needs you here."

"if you love me, you'll let me go with you. To help you."

I grit my teeth a little, but almost hard enough that it hurts. Pain shoots through me. "No, you can't go."

Gabby begins to cry a little. He isn't helping. "You're saying you don't love me?"

My voice stronger. "Gabby, listen to me. Got it? Listen to me-"

"Let me come with you. I can help you stop the Capitol."

"Gabby, you're not listen-"

Gabby begins to cry even more and complains furthermore. "Why do you do this to me? WHY!?"

"DAMN IT GABBY! LISTEN TO ME! GOT IT!?"

I wake up my mother and Gabby's tears stop almost immediately. I continue. "You're too young. You're too innocent. You're not allowed to help me in the Rebellion effort. Do you understand? And I won't let you die out there. I've told you before, you're needed here. Do whatever your mother says. Give her whatever she wants. Help her anyway you can."

My voice fierce and powerful. "Do you understand?"

He looks away and I tell him to look at me. When he doesn't, I grab his cheeks and gently rotate his head my way so he can look at me. I repeat my last words again and Gabby shakes his head. I tell him to say it, loud and clear. Moments pass before he says it, and I pull him towards me so I can hug him. "I love you too much to let you die."

Gabby doesn't answer back, and that's all right. I let him go after a few minutes when my mother cries for Gabby's assist. I know this can't be easy for him, but I needed him to understand. I go into the room to check on Rissa and Zeke welcomes me in with a scared and guilty look. "You didn't have to yell at him like that."

"I had to get his attention."

I side-step past him into the room and peel away the covers to see how she's doing. She seems to be a littler better. Hard not to. She has nine covers over her body, and two winter covers. It should still take some time for her to get better. Zeke walks out of the room and I ask him where he's going. "To put Mez's body somewhere else."

I don't object, and Zeke leaves. I pull up a chair and lean against a wall, my feet propped on the side of the bed. I wake up to Rissa shaking my leg, calling my name, and I jump in my chair. Shocked I didn't have any nightmares. Rissa has peeled away some of the covers by now, and remarks. "Morning, Fil."

I snicker back. "You too, Rissa."

Rissa's looking much better now. It's dark out now, and it was probably seven or so when I started to fall asleep. Not sure what time it is now. "So, how was the rest of the Victory Tour? And the President's Mansion, of course. Tell me everything."

I begin to chuckle a little as I explain _everything_ like she asked. Smiling like it's some twisted game to me. I even add the part about me going back into the Games. When I finish, her first words are. "You're going _back_ into the Games?"

"Yes."

I end laughing about the Mockingjay Mansion Party, how much fun it was. "Well, good thing you enjoyed yourself at the party. Did you save some champagne for me?"

We both snicker back and Rissa tells me ruminate on something. "What if you get caught trying to fill in for the other tributes? And aren't you a mentor now?"

I take some time to think about this and Rissa rests her head back onto the pillow. I _do _need to consider the ways it can go wrong, how it can work in my favor. When I think I have my answer, I take time to consider it even more. Zeke makes it back after a couple of hours and finds me in my room with Rissa still, she has less covers on now. She's warmed up now. I ask Zeke when he walks in the room. "Where'd you put Mez?"

"I buried him near the Dam."

"Why?"

Zeke leans against a wall and puts his foot against it, crossing his arms and replying in a careful tone. "Because he deserves to be buried somewhere that helps us to live the way we do with what we have."

This takes me by surprise. I frown at the floor, trying to think of what he means. It only takes me a short while before I do. Keeping Five running, and helping it stay alive. I also think about the hydroelectric aspect of it all. How it may have reminded Zeke of me. _Stronger.. Power.. Empower._ It makes sense, at least. And it means more than he knows.


	17. The Demented Rebel Plan

"People of Panem!" Addresses Katniss. "As you may know, two weeks ago, the Victory Tour had ended, and you all know what that means." Her voice lower but still proud. Calm. "The 77th Hunger Games will begin in only two days. So prepare for another excellent year in Games, and this year, the Arena will take place in one of existing districts. Remember, Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_,"

There's a certain way she says _ever_ that makes it seductive, and finishes in the same tone. "In your favor." Whistling Rue's four note as the screen fades back to black since Rue's four note whistle is the new Capitol Anthem. How could Snow stoop so low? Unless this was Katniss's idea when she was brainwashed. If so, it makes things even worse. The Tour ended two weeks ago, and the Games are two days away. I can't possibly rule out that it'll take place in District Two. It seems too easy. Probably be mine because she's trying to kill me. I'll have to find out myself. It makes it better seeing that District Two may be the Arena, and not mine. To say the least, it makes me feel better.

Even if I _were_ to take the Tributes' places in the Games, I'd be going in blind. I won't know what the Tributes are capable of because I won't be with them in the Training Center. It'd be a guaranteed suicide note. And fool would be written all over it. Written in my own blood.

I head to Wayden's house in Five, which he told me where it was when he stopped by my house a couple of days ago, since his house was burned down with the Victor's Village. Removing luxury of winning the Games, and having your own house. Screwing over any future winners of District Five. Wayden's asleep on the floor. At least there's no wine anywhere. I check his hands. Empty. If I weren't as smart as I am now, I'd have wine bottle shards lodged inside my skin by now. I do what I did last time to wake him up and when Wayden comes to, he shouts at me. "You seriously need to stop doing that!"

"You need to find better things to do in your life."

Wayden fakes a laugh. "Very funny. Is that why you came here?"

"No. I need to talk to you."

He pulls up a chair and sits in it as I pull up my own. "So, what is it?" He asks finally.

"I have a plan, and I need you to agree with it."

Wayden tilts his head a little to the left, remarking. "Another Rebel Plan?"

"Yes."

He slowly repositions his head back to normal and I continue. "When it's time for the Tributes to practice their skills in the Training Center, I take their place and go in there myself."

Wayden looks at me even more shocked. But this time, it's on a whole another level. "What,"

He rubs his forehead as his arm rests on the marble table, finishing. "The Hell,"

He removes his hand from his forehead and shouts at me with fury. "Are you thinking!? You're asking to go back into the Games!?"

I reply back, unfazed. He shouts again. "Why?"

"To try and recite a Rebellion. The Games are the best way to get my face out there."

Wayden moans loudly, tilting his head back in his chair. When he finally looks back at me, he comments. "Just how insane do you think you are?"

"More insane than you."

When the words come out, it's like I can feel them bouncing off the walls, returning to sender, reverberating against my skull. "I really hope you've thought this through." Reminds Wayden, letting out an exhale. I bite my lip and respond. "I'll take responsibility for whatever happens."

"Tell that to the Peacekeepers. The guards. Katniss. Everyone."

"They can do whatever they want. After a while, they'll _have_ to put me into the Games. Disobeying the rules."

"Yeah? What about the other Tributes?"

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "Take them back home."

"What about me and the others?"

"You stay in the Capitol to mentor me and the rest go with the Tributes."

The idea is so complex, so far fetched, so insane, I question if it'll ever work. It's a long shot, so far away I can't see it through a scope of my Tech Bow. Or with a careful eye. "And what if we end up killed?"

"Have the stylists do a makeover on the Tributes and everyone else involved in the plan, including you, so no one recognizes you, using a Rebel Driver to take you back home like you did to me on the Tour. When someone asks who you're mentoring for and why, tell them I told you to take my place."

Involving the stylists makes the plan a little easier, and they'll have to work on the costumes for the Tributes, me, _and_ for everyone else. Adding to the complexity of the plan. "And what'd the others do when they get back home? Or when the other, non-District Five residents come through here?"

I take a deep breath as I answer. "They have to hole up as well as they can in their given living quarters and when the Games are over, the crew will come back to the Capitol and get rid of the makeover looks. Everyone will have to come home during the Games when they go live so people are less likely to notice people coming into their district."

Wayden rubs his eyes with his hand, moaning some more. He looks around for some alcohol and gets up to get some from the counter, popping the lid and chugging it down. "If I don't win, go back to the Capitol regardless."

"And the Tributes?"

"They stay home and get rid of their makeover when the Games are over."

Wayden's face looks seriously grim, and I don't blame him. Using the Tributes from my _own_ District to carry out my plan, my stylists, my escort, and my mentor, to carry out a potential Rebel Plan. I've had about half a week to think about this plan, and I admit, this is beyond anything I could've thought of. And I'll probably be hated for it. Even more than when Wayden announced his plan. He manipulated his own people to carry out his own twisted plan. Mine is something else entirely. Wayden chugs down the rest of his wine and asks droopily. "Anything else?"

"When you're going to mentor me in the Games, I need you to be sober. To focus."

This infuriates Wayden and he smashes the bottle against the table, breaking it and he throws the shards at me. But I get up and duck behind the chair before he gets the chance. I rise back up from the chair and Wayden points at me as he rises from his chair with fury, shouting at me. "If you think you'll get away with this-"

"I'll have Fitz make a Frontal Lobe Warning Device in case you end up giving into temptation."

Wayden throws a punch at me and I dodge it, looking at him in the eyes. "And I mean it."

He yanks his arm free and shouts at me again. "Fine. Carry out your _demented _plan. But afterwards, we're done."

I take a deep breath and shake my head for approval. I leave the house and I hear Wayden's screams of infuriation penetrate the drunken membrane of his house. This has got to be the Worst Idea Ever, but if it works accordingly, it'll work like a charm. I don't want to do this, but I have to. And I will. A darker Capitol needs an even darker plan.


	18. The 77th Hunger Games Reaping

It's Reaping Day now. And I sit in a chair next to the Mayor on the stage with Wayden next to him. Amaza comes out on stage after enough time passes and the screen behind me lights up with Katniss reciting the speech of how the Hunger Games started to now. It couldn't have been any worse, and now it is. After the screens fades back to black, Amaza has trouble saying her words, but fights through it and pretends to enjoy herself. Moments later, going to the Reaping Balls to choose the two female tributes. The first one being another person I don't know. Macy Cavadon. She looks robust. Red hair. And then…God no. No. No. Iris Montague. I find myself rising my chair and shouting in-denial, rushing to Iris as the Peacekeepers try to detain me. I fight back and rush to Iris to hug her tightly, shouting that she can't go in the Games. The Peacekeepers taze me in my hipbone and I release my hold on Iris, who watches me, terrified. The Peacekeepers stand by the entrance to the trains, holding my arms with an iron grip and ready to taze me again should I resist. I end up having an emotional breakdown in front of Iris, and it makes matters worse for me. Also changing my plan some. Making it a little less crazy, kinda. Sending Iris away so I can take her place in the Games. To save her. I'm not letting her die in that Arena. But that's the only thing that changes. And plus, I'll have to rely on my wits, my strength, and marksmanship to get me out of there alive. One Tribute against thirty-eight. With my luck, some of them will be killed off for me. I'll have to be smarter this time around, too.

The males are called and I'm going to freak if it's Gabby. It's not. Just two average built teenagers. Sirus Malcom and Percy Gavin. Both have black hair. What are the odds?

Immediately following the end of the Reaping, everyone's whisked away to the Trains. Good thing I already said my goodbyes to Zeke and Rissa. Though they don't know about my plan. If I did end up dying, I'd made sure to ask Rissa about her mother. Her answering her mother was someone that recited the Rebellion years ago that failed and brought on the Games. Huge difference from her father.

Minutes after getting onto the train, I find out Macy is scared. So is everyone else. Everyone except Iris. She looks as calm as ever. To the others, she does. To me, I can see the look in her eyes. She's scared spit less. I decide to tell the others about my plan on the first day of Training, when it all begins. I've tried to train myself back to shape again, and I've had okay results so far. I can see a slight definition in my muscles; though, not as strong as I was before the Victory Tour. Nowhere close. Not only that, but I had also gained weight after and during the Tour. I worked _some_ of it off, and it was weight gain brought upon by intensive and prolonged exposure to more pain my body could handle, and the alcohol just worsened my condition. Two weeks worth of stress and four days of booze. All that can be hard to work off in a short amount of time. I'll be at a major disadvantage this time. Which beckons that I always try to outthink my opponent, to observe them carefully. My heart sinks as I dwell on the negatives to this plan. And how, if I die, or if this doesn't work, all of this will be for nothing. And Katniss will find some way to kill the people I love. Iris being the main target since she was reaped from the Games anyways. And her being the only one brought into the Games that I cared about the most.

Wayden's told me the Capitol has cameras everywhere, and that they could anticipate my plan. It makes matters even worse. An impossible, sinister, plan. A plan just waiting to fail. And me and everyone else I'm trying to protect will end up dying because of me. I shed a tear at the thought and I end up crying. Iris puts her arm around me, squeezing my arm tightly and singing.

_Quiet your mind, _

_Forget your worries._

Everyone's heads turn our way and Iris continues singing in her calming voice. A voice she only has when she sings.

_See what I see. _

_A world where we are free. _

_A world where there are no more cares._

I'm glad that Iris is trying to make things better; only she doesn't know, she's making things harder for me. She doesn't stop singing.

_Where your tomorrows are your future, _

_Where you can live in peace. _

_Forever, and ever._

_Ever, and forever._

_And ever I love you._

Macy compliments. "That's a lovely song. Did you come up with that on the spot?"

"No, it's something I've had for a while."

She goes on to explain the origin behind the song. How, when Iris was watching the Games as a little kid one night, watching kids beating each with deadly and exotic weapons, her mother shielded her eyes and when those Games were over, Iris had nightmares. Her mother sang her to sleep one night and slept in bed with her until she went to sleep, singing that song. It was a chance to forget the bad. To remember that there are better days coming. To see that your suffering will be worth something one day. I look at Iris with despair in my voice, my eyes, and my body. "It _is _beautiful, Iris."

I lie for her sake, even if it's only half true. It is a beautiful song. A beautiful song to take to my grave. Even if Iris can see through the barriers I put up, to try and hide my emotions, she doesn't know why. And when she does, I have a feeling it won't be pleasant. And the thing is, it'll be worse for her than me. Revealing the plan to her could not only jeopardize our friendship, but also show her how much I've broken. What the Capitol did to me. …And what I'm planning on doing to them.


	19. Wayden Warns Filmlia

As we exit the train, we follow the tributes out of the train, escorted again by Peacekeepers to the Remake Center. I feel a shiver down my spine being around these Peacekeepers, thinking they've been told about the plan. I begin to get more uneasy and I feel like I'm vomit right here. My steps falter some and a Peacekeeper pushes me back in line, bumping into the Tributes. "Watch your step, Rebel."

_Rebel_. The word burning inside my mind, blazing downwards to the rest of my body, incinerating me like a furnace. I feel even more afraid than I should be, and when we reach the Remake Center, the Peacekeepers go off to escort the Tributes to their locations and Amaza and Wayden stop in our tracks, watching them leave. Wayden grabs my arm and I shoot my attention to him in an instant, almost jumping. "We need to talk."

I'm tired of talking, but I force myself to do it anyways. "What is it?"

He looks deep in my eyes, warning me. "You never should've won those Games."

"What about the Rebel Plan?"

"We're not talking about my plan. We're talking about how difficult it was to get sponsors for you and your allies."

He lets go of the flab of skin and Amaza chimes in. "He's right. It was absolute chaos. Children were dying, and the last things on their minds were saving them."

I frown at the floor, then look around for an answer to all this. I know the answer anyway, though. _They wanted to watch them die. They wanted to celebrate the Beginning of a New Age of Games. _"I have a feeling this time it's going to be worse." Worries Amaza. She gets out a tissue, from her bra, I think, to wipe what tears are coming down her eyes. I look to Wayden with total horror in my eyes. "So this time, I'll be at an even more of a disadvantage."

Wayden exhales deeply and I state. "I'm nothing like I was last time. I'm a hopeless wreck."

Wayden puts a hand on my shoulder and tries to make the situation better, but he can't. Not now. "Try the best you can."

He tries, at least. I begin to get furious, almost shouting at Wayden under the stress. "You should've let me die in the 76th Hunger Games if you didn't want me to be a _MENTOR! _And you wait until _now_ to tell me this?!"

Amaza pries me away from Wayden and people turn towards me. My voice was loud enough to carry, and the look on his face is deeply hurt. Heartbroken, almost. Everyone stops what they're doing and the stress I'm putting myself under, or _am_ being put under, could jeopardize my plan, and more than likely kill my team. I begin to be on the verge of another emotional breakdown and I force myself out of it. "You need to get a grip." Reminds Wayden when I've calmed down enough. I glare at him furiously and I don't say anything back. I try to calm down some more because my heart is still racing. "Is Trent here this year?"

I ask no one in particular as I look in the distance, stylists hosing down a hulk of a Tribute. It's a girl…"Trent had been assigned to someone else this year."

I break a little more inside as my body cries from the toll I've put myself through with this plan. Does that mean I don't Gravin and Mulika this time around? Am I going to be set up with crappy stylists that can't carry out the disguising part of the plan? If I am, I'll have to go ahead and forget this plan, and watch Iris die in the Games. And the sponsors won't give a damn about a teenager's life surrounded by people already better than her, lining up; no, breaking each other's necks to get to her.

My feet glue to the floor. I'm lost in thought of hope and hopelessness. Life and death. Sane and insane. I jump like three feet when someone breaks the silence with a laugh. A stylist. Shouting how funny a joke a Tribute made. I don't expect it to be a sane one at this point. Later on, we meet up with the Tributes again at the Opening Ceremony. We're about to send them off. The stylists and the main stylists _actually_ did a good job. For a change, something good happens today. I don't feel like knowing more names than I need to, so I don't ask the names of the new stylists just yet, let alone worry about it. _One thing at a time._ Iris catches sight of me and go to talk to me. "What's wrong? You look really sick."

I shake my head to snap back to my senses and reply back in a stronger voice, kinda. "I-I'm fine."

Iris walks a little closer towards me, looking up at me, worry in her voice, her expression. "What's going on?"

I look around to glance an everyone's costumes, and I take a deep breath, answering. "You won't like it."

"How bad could it be?" She says with a smile.

"It's more than bad."

It's time for everyone to mount the chariots, and she gets on. _I'm so sorry, Iris._ I head with the group around the bleachers that houses the audience, and the audience is screaming out of control again. We end up at the place the chariots stop, and when they all come to a stop, Katniss emerges from another balcony, just no glass this time. Probably has a microphone on her ear. "Welcome Tributes! It is with great honor that you will participate in another year of glorious Hunger Games!"

The next words send terror inside of me. Making matters _even_ worse than possibly imaginable. _And this year, you must compete with your skills and your wits even more now, as there will be no allies allowed._ Wayden sees the unbelievable amount of dread building up, he has to. No other way he could pulling me in for a hug. After what I did to him, I'd expect him to leave me like this. To leave me to die without hope. I still am. My face breaks out into tears and I'm trying not to have an emotional breakdown in front of Iris. In front the forty other Tributes. But I'm about to break. So are the Tributes. Furious that there won't be any allies. Some happy about it. I look at it this way: More people will die and no one will be working together. I'll be by myself anyways, so it doesn't really matter _for_ me. Things couldn't get any worse. And they're always bound to. I'll be in shards when the Games come, and should the Arena be in my District, they won't even have to bring my body to my family. They can just bury me in the Arena.

In the elevator, everyone's complaining about there not being any allies. It makes my Rebel Plan seem less sadistic some, but I'm still putting their lives in danger. Putting everyone's lives in danger. Even Iris's. And there's nothing that can happen that can makes this plan any less demented when it involves her. "What are we going to do?" Asks Macy.

"Do as I say." I demand. "I'll explain when we get to our Living Quarters."

Sirus whistles. "Someone's a control freak."

I'd roll my eyes, but what happened to Stone's father has changed my ability to keep doing that. I bite my lip. Hard. Percy complains. "We're all going to die."

Iris sings her song, closing her eyes, leaning against a wall, Percy barks at her. "Shut up all right? I'm already scared enough, and the last thing I need is for you to start singing again."

Iris keeps singing, unfazed. I take deep breaths, trying to restrain myself from throwing Percy out of this glass elevator. "I said stop singing!"

"Shut the hell up." Shoots Macy.

"You first."

They start pushing each other and I get in the way of them. I grab his fist when he throws a punch and I look at him with disdain in my eyes. "Act that way again, and the first thing everyone's going to do is kill you when the gong sounds. Live. For the entire world to see. At all the different angles. Keeping a record of it forever. And ever."

Percy's eyes fill with fear and Iris has stopped singing. Percy lets me speak. "So, if you think you're scared now, just keep up that attitude, and that might just happen."

I let go of his hand and I'm the first one out of the elevator. It takes everyone else some time to gather up the strength to move from their place. I already have enough pressure built up for this plan, and the last thing on my mind is worrying about someone that mocks a beautiful song meant for making matters better. We reach our apartment and I wait for someone to complain that this isn't exactly ideal, but it's good enough. When we get inside, I look at Wayden and he shakes his head for approval. I explain the plan to everyone. What we're going to do. What has to be done. And everyone's face switches from scared to scared straight. I begin to think that, by some chance, this plan may actually work. I've been wrong before. And then the stylists appear to be even more scared straight when I tell them their role in my plan. When I'm done explaining the plan, everyone's too frightened to say anything. As if my threat was child's play. What seems like hours later, the stylists complain that they don't make disguises. I clear up their involvement in the plan. "Just do what you usually do. Makes costumes. But cover their faces. Add makeup. Make people look unrecognizable. Make them look like someone else."

I get so frustrated with all the pressure, the terror, and the pain built up from the day; I head to one of the bedrooms and shut the door hard, locking the door behind me. I lean against the doorframe and I go to sleep for the day without supper. As I do I have nightmares about if my plan doesn't work out. The Tributes, Amaza, Wayden, and the stylists all lined up, side-by-side on a platform with me tied to a pillar. Katniss beside me, reading to the world what I've been convicted of, and what my sentence is. Peacekeepers rise from the ground and go towards the group of people lined up, shotguns in hand, pointing the barrels of their guns at their heads. Ready to blow their brains out and more. Katniss reads Amaza's name, her position as an escort, and supporter of the plan. He shouts for a Peacekeeper to fire, blowing her head off her shoulders as it falls about, at least, twenty stories down. When she's dead, the Peacekeeper kicks her off the platform as the Peacekeeper takes his place beside me. I end up screaming in-denial, in agony, and Katniss reads Wayden's position, and blowing his head off, too. Doing the same for the stylists, Percy, Macy, and Sirus. By then, I'm already an emotional wreck. My body can't handle the stress and I'm writhing in my restraints. Katniss and her guards allow me to writhe, to watch the deaths of the people I never knew, or did know. When she gets to Iris, she not only reads her position, but also how we've been friends for years. Even announcing the song she's sang, about how there are better things out there aside from the Games. How everything will be all right. Mocking Iris about where her mother is now, how she's not here to save her. And how I was too weak to protect her. How she'll die unloved. Cueing the Peacekeeper to blow her head off. My mind snaps and I'm fighting my restraints even more now. My head banging against the pillar. My body wracking. My body falling apart because of the emotional toll. "And the last subject. Filmlia Treen. An advocate of war. Of a Rebellion. To overthrow the Capitol."

She turns to me and smiles widely, diminishing when five seconds pass. "You failed."

She turns again to the crowd which is furious. Their screams were deafening, and now, it's like an anthem of death. And for some reason, I can't close my eyes. I had to watch everything unfold. Katniss yells to the crowd what my sentence should be. I hear answers like death by fire, death by snow, mutilation, rape, dismembering, or leave me here to rot on this pillar. They're so far away, but the voices are so clear. Katniss raises a hand in the air that silences the crowd, snickering as she comes up with a plan, shouting to the crowd. "Death by Mockingjays!"

As soon as she says that, Mockingjays pop out of the ground, eating away my clothes but nipping at my flesh, gathering all over my body, biting it off as Katniss watches the whole thing unfold, whistling Rue's four-note tone and the last thing I see is a Mockingjay opening it's mouth to bite at my eye. I wake up in a colder sweat than usual, my body spazzing, my screams stretching further throughout this dark and shadowy plane that is the night. And I'm nowhere near my bed, I'm lying on a balcony without a railing, and I'm overlooking the Capitol. I'm inches away from falling to my death. Iris comes through the door when she hears my screams of horror, swatting at my skin to remove the Mockingjays that aren't here anymore. Iris picks me up by the armpits and I'm fighting her off of me, leaping off of the ledge only to be propelled back into the house by a force field. I scream profane words when I find out I can't end this all right now. My body even more sore than when I cringed with those monkeys in the Games. This may very well be the most pain my body's been in. I wince, I scream, I curse, and I bang my fist against the metal floor, probably breaking it. My voice getting hoarse and Iris tries to calm me down. She gets on top of me and she grabs my arms, trying to stop them from swinging and she tries to scream over me. Everyone else comes in and Iris tells them to get out of here. That she can handle this. I try to calm down, even if it's pointless, and it's useless. Iris shouts at me that I, for sure, won't win the Games or carry out my plan if I'm too busy wallowing in my own suffering. I tell her I don't have a choice. I can't handle the stress. I can't do this anymore and she reminds me how I've always pushed forward. I get tired of fighting her and iris speaks with a scratch in her voice. "You're Filmlia Treen. You're a fighter. You're smart. You're brave. And you never surrender."

I can't help but keep crying, and Iris tells me to suck it up. She's right, anyways. I have to. "I won't stand by and watch you try to kill yourself." She caresses my hair gently. Like someone I used to know. Zeke. "Promise me that you'll try."

I try to pull myself together and close my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth, forcing myself to get a grip. _So much for recovery._ When I don't answer back, she repeats. After a while, I promise her that I'll try. I've let the Games, Katniss, and the Tour get the best of me. Letting it dictate my life. Making me substantially weaker. Iris caresses my hair still and whisper gently. "Try and go back to sleep, okay?"

I shake my head for approval. Whether it be me trying to balance out Iris, or her balancing me out, we're unlike your normal friendship. Through death and hope, we've always been there for each other. I'll miss her in the Games. No. I need to be stronger. I don't need to rely on someone to help me endure the pain. I can do this on my own. I need to do this on my own. And oddly enough, she's a supporter of my twisted scheme. Probably sees it the way I do since we've known each other for so long. I don't feel like asking why tonight, and I'll ask another time. I'm so drained right now. But tomorrow, I'll have to go into Training with a retribution. And I plan on it.


	20. Back To The Training Center

I enter the Training Center and I see it's more advanced this time. More people fighting each other than last time, whether it be for practice or for something pointless, and guards detain them with a Shock Baton to the neck. I walk around and see an average bodied man with hair slicked back. He's throwing knives at holographic images of Tributes running towards, hundreds of them, throwing weapons at him. He throws knives at them so fast I can't register it. I watch the others fall one-by-one, or more than that. When five line up, he throws a single knife fast enough and hard enough to go through them all at once. _I'm so screwed. _I can't think these thoughts. I have to try and be strong. The man takes some breaths of victory and must feel like he's being watched. Or he just turns around for the hell of it. "Hey ther-Wait."

He would've said, _hey there,_ but off the bat, I see he has a careful eye and it didn't take that much time for me to register in his mind. "Aren't you a _mentor_ now? What're you doing here?"

I begin to get a little nauseated inside. He notices something else. "And what happened to your pin and braid? Give up your Rebel days and turn it in for a new one?"

_He's close to finding it out by himself. Smart. Fast. Deadly. _"Orchestrating a solo Rebel Plan, are you? Taking the Tributes' places in the Arena?"

_Say something. _I stutter. "N-no."

"I can see the changes in your behavior. The slight switch in your body language. Almost slouched. Your eyes have dilated. You're afraid. No matter how many times you lie, I'll always know the truth."

_What'd I do?_ "I can do you a solid. You stand in the way of my knife, and I can give you the medicine you need. You look sick."

Seconds pass before I say something else, and I still hesitate. "But there aren't any Districts that specialize in medicine."

"District One has started it."

"To keep up the idea of luxury and better living?"

He smiles a little and points his finger at me, shaking it. "Good. But not good enough."

His smile disappears and lets his hand fall back to his side. "Have a nice day, Rebel."

He goes to pick up his knives, and I walk away. _The first person I meet today and it's him. A Multi-District Tribute? _He may have been trained in District Two, but how does that explain the medicinal aspect? Did he have parents that married from One and Two? Or did he pick it up himself, being trained in Two, and had someone teach him about medicine? I just think it's part of his character. Using those knives as an antidote. Or he could be raised in One and someone trained him before the Games. Either way, he's the worst kind of enemy. Someone that knows how to kill you. How to read you. How to outthink you. And knows how to use, probably, any type of medicine. He has to be at least seventeen. Another thing I think is about is that he was most likely raised in One and moved to Two to learn Masonry. Not sure how long he was in each one, but it had to have been enough time to be this skilled with weapons. One could've been specializing in medicine without anyone knowing. Keeping their goods to themselves, Capitol and all. Or it could be he studied extensively, being a top student in school. I ask him these things when I think he's done throwing knives, throwing at two images without looking. Now I know he _has_ to be raised in Two. His face staying blank until I reveal some of my theories, and his expression turns slightly intrigued and then, a little more, as some time passes by. "I was born in Two and studied medicine while there."

He begins to smile bigger. "You're smart. I like that."

His smile grows a little more. "Really smart. I might _just_ keep you alive long enough to make you my last target."

"Don't count on it just yet."

His smile vanishes after a couple of seconds. He turns back to his knives and I saved myself from a quick death. A slow death, more like. Glad to know my intellectual value hasn't degraded, but developed to a more calculative mind. And my Archery skills are still rusty. I head to the Archery Room and find a man from Eleven dominating the Expert Mode as the letters are displayed on a wall in digital, orange letters. I'm about to progress around the Training Center and I bump into someone. But there's no one there. _Invisible Gadget? Three?_ I'm proven wrong when someone opens their eyes in front of me, moving around as the gridlines on the floor move with him, as well as everywhere else. _Environmental Adaptation Gadget._ He's moving out of my way and tells me, _carry on._ He's going to be a nightmare in the Arena, that's to say he'll get his hands on something like that. Or dies in the Bloodbath before he can. _Chameleon._

I head further and see a woman fighting someone with protective gear with a staff, and the other person has a sword. He attaches his sword to her staff, trying to see which one can prove their strength by pushing someone off of the platform. The woman wraps her legs around the person's back, and front-flips, using her body strength to body slam the person of fof the platform and onto the ground, accompanied by groans. I recognize her bone structure. She was the woman I saw in the Remake Center.Flexible, too. _Brawnessa. _I've seen four people already, and so far, they're the biggest threats. Chameleon can be taken down easily with an EMP Arrow, but I won't know where he'll pop up. Bu when he's EMP'd, he'll be taken down easily. He may not be that strong of a person if he's relying on camouflage. Aside from the top-notch Careers, and some of the better Tributes, there are people almost as terrified as I am, but they're more petrified. Always some that cry in the corner or end up throwing up on the floors. Not everyone's a warrior. And now everyone's against each other. Another thing I notice. No one's at the knot-tying station or the edible plant station. The instructors there look really bored. I head towards the edible plant station since it might be useful along the line in the future. The instructor's face lights up and begins to tell me what I need to know. Later that night, I talk to the group about my experience on the first day of Training, what I saw, who I saw, and what I did. Wayden remarks saying. "So you went through _all_ that, and decided to learn about what plants you can eat?"

"Yes." I reply with a smile, which makes Iris smile, too. Wayden moans and complains. "I'll never understand you. Last night you had a complete meltdown, and now you're making jokes?"

"Yes." I joke. "You really are more insane than I am." He drinks down some of his drink and continues. "And you're younger than I am."

Later that night, I ask Iris to join me on a balcony outside my room to overlook the city. While it may be twisted, it's nice to look at during the night. Iris joins me after a while and sits next to me, asking me what I needed to talk to her about. "How can you go through with this plan?"

"Because I want you to try and stop the Capitol, too."

She smiles back at me, "And because you're my sister. I love you. And I have to put up with your crazy schemes." She remarks, snickering.

She wraps her fingers in mine like a sister would. The pressure, the anger, everything, melts away. I smile a bigger grin than I thought I would, and I rest my head on her shoulder, and I tell her I love her, too. I ask. "How can you think like this?"

"Because I've done this for a while."

She strokes my hair again and continues speaking. "Good luck on your plan."

"Thanks."

Seconds later, she's singing her song again. When she's done singing, she adds more notes to the song.

_Rest your head,_

_Calm your mind_

_Close your eyes,_

_And go to sleep._

_When you wake,_

_Remember that I love you_

_When you wake, _

_Remember I'm always here_

_When you wake,_

_I'll be there,_

_Waiting for you to wake._

_Forever,_

_And ever_

_Ever,_

_And forever_

_I love you._

The tears have already fallen before I can stop them. Tears of peace. A new kind of tears. Iris sings the song over again, just the beginning so I can sing along. She's crying, too. Hours pass, and we're back in our bedrooms, sleeping. _No nightmares,_ I think when I wake up. I feel as if I've never slept better. I go into the Training Center calmer this time, and less afraid. My first step is to step into the Archery Room and turn it to the difficulties I did last time. Intermediate. Expert. Challenger. Intermediate is okay. Expert was harder. Challenger was more than challenging. When I feel like I didn't do good enough, I keep trying again and again until I get the hang of my skills again. It feels like hours, and I'm still here. My body sore. My muscles ache. Forcing myself past my limit, and I keep going. Trying to rebuild myself again. However, there is a such thing as working yourself to death, and working your muscles to the point where the slightest breath can hurt like Hell, so I stop myself before it's too late. The next day I do the same thing, and then it's time to demonstrate my skills to the Gamemaker.

The room with all the Tributes and me being the only solo Tribute here makes it awkward, nauseating almost. Least I won't have to worry about keeping any of my allies alive. And I can fend for myself. Two Careers, both male, both strong, end up fighting over who'll get the bigger score, and they end on the ground, pounding one another with their fists. Some are cheering, some aren't. After this goes on long enough, the next District is called. _Two._ The beat down continues and I shout to get their attention. One of the males, without looking at me, shouts back. "You're not my mother, little bitch. Go and cry for yours, will ya?"

The male wrestles the other and they switch sides. The guy who was once on top kicks the other off of him and shouts at him, mocking him, kicking his side. I lunge forward as hard as I can and scrape my fingernails across his face, leaving a mark there and I punch the scar. He punches my gut, head butts me, punches my rib, and punches my temple, knocking me of him. He's about to kick me when I kick his groin first, as many times as I can before he goes down. I stand up as he does, slamming his face against the side of a chair, scraping his forehead. As Five is called, I strike back at the male. "You should've cried to the Capitol."

I exit the room and I have trouble breathing, let alone walking. The fight was wrong, I know, but I had to stop him from trying and killing the guy. Regardless if it were a Career. And I don't like it when someone insults my mother. Isaac is here again. Still gives me the creeps. His voice hasn't changed either. I waste no time getting my weapons and the voice booms through the speakers, telling me I have ninety minutes to demonstrate my chosen skill. "Make it worth my while this time." Complains Isaac.

I ignore him. As the dome forms, I'm the next AI. A robust version of myself. _Just great._ As the battle begins, the AI gets to the point as she fires arrows faster than I can. Hits harder than I can, and moves faster than me. I keep fighting. I end up focusing harder and fighting harder than I did when the demonstration began. I then find myself messing up some and I can't allow this. _Focus._ I land a hit in the face that was hard enough to temporarily disorient the AI and I swing my arrow across her throat, to slit it open, kicking her off of the platform and closer to the dome. I'm firing my arrows at her and she dodges them. I make my way towards her and she smashes my face against the dome, burning it a little. But making it feel like the real thing. _Fight back._ I grab an arrow from her quiver and stab her in the neck. I punch her temple and she swings a punch at me with her bow. I duck it and I smash my fist against the side of her knee, swiping the floor with my feet and knocking her down. As she falls, I grab an arrow in my quiver and shove it through the opening in her throat I slit through. Kicking her aside for good measure into the dome to get electrocute. The demonstration ends and Isaac chuckles lightly. But still says. "Pathetic."

I put the weapons back and take a bow. "It wasn't a compliment."

I stand up straight again and I smile back. "I know."

Better to show him how unaffected I am by him than to let him get the best of me like last time. Lately, I've felt stronger, better. And I have Iris to thank for that song she sang. For agreeing with my twisted plan.

I'm still nowhere near as strong as I was before the Tour, and I'm not sure how I pulled this one off. Did Isaac actually make it easier? Or was it easier for me and the programming was the same? Or did he make it easier so that he could give me a high score, making me a better target?

Training's over, much to my dismay. I'll still be going into the Games not as robust physically. My skills may be improving. And it's weird how much I've changed since I first came back here. When the Games start, I'll have to get rid of my sympathy and appear stronger. What I'll lack in muscle, I'll make up for in appearing more powerful than I look, and looking more terrifying. I may still be writing my suicide note, and it'll still have fool written all over it. Still written in my blood. _Tear it up and throw it away. You have to win these Games._

Later that night, I find myself worrying about my plan as the Games get closer and closer. How something might slip up. How the others may break down because of the pressure. When we gather up on the couch, in front of the TV, I tell everyone with a scratch in my voice. "Look, I'm sorry for anything I've said. It was just the pressure of trying to-"

Percy interrupts. "You should be. You're going to get us killed!"

I bring my legs up to my chest and ignore him, continuing. "-Trying to carry out my plan."

"And how would scaring us straight help you carry out your plan?" Complains Sirus.

I take a deep breath and Iris answers for me. "Just give her a break, will you? I'm sure being with all those Tributes hasn't helped her condition."

"Yeah? And who are you? Her mother?"

I jerk my head back at him, giving him a dark glare. Amaza sighs, and the stylists leave the room. Sirus laughs. "Yeah, run. Run while you still have the chance. As a matter of fact, you should do that!"

The words are out before they can leave. Wayden is gripping his wine glass with a grip hard enough to make it shake and he's about to shout at Percy and Sirus, I can tell. Then Sirus just has to go and say. "Bunch of ass holes."

Wayden slams his glass on the table, upsetting the wine inside as it spills onto the table, shouting. "I hope you two are the first to die when the Games go on."

Percy and Sirus shut up. Finally. Macy lets out a sigh of relief and thanks Wayden. He says you're welcome and asks an Avox for more wine. Sirus and Percy leave the room, and I don't see them for the rest of the night. Caesar looks at his cards strangely as he's probably missing some cards or there being no score. The first time for me to see his face so serious. He recovers and changes course, going to read the scores of District Six.

My mind snaps back to Sirus and Percy. How I let _them_ affect me. I could've still saved them, but what was the point. They didn't care about being saved. All they were worried about was me using them as my pawns in a chess game where everyone has a chance to die. In the morning, I wake up in a bone-chilling sweat, but I didn't have any nightmares. Must be the worry. When I sit up, I feel like I sat up too fast, making myself a little sick. I put my hand on my forehead and moan. I look at the floor and find two broken wine bottles, empty, on the ground. My heart stops as my stomach drops. I sweat out even more. I do feel a little hung over-Damn it. I slept drank, infiltrating the wine supply stashed away here that Wayden had stored away. A stash I saw him open one day. In his room. I must've done it stealthily. I involuntarily sunk low enough to throw away my training and turn to booze again. _Fool. You're a fool. _I end up breaking down emotionally and Iris comes in the room when she must be near my room, opening the door and tripping over a wine bottle. Three of them. _How much did I drink? _I look around and step on a shard, removing it from my foot. It looks like more than three. Six. Iris looks around and asks, worried. "What happened?"

"I slept drank." I say falling flat on my face, almost unable to push myself up. Iris helps me up to my knees and replies. "Was the pressure too much?"

I answer back in a weaker voice than I'd expect. "It was. I tried to keep it in. I really did. Percy and Sirus brought it back. I infiltrated Wayden's booze supply and drank it all."

I can't believe no one woke up with all that commotion going on. Me breaking bottles. Iris pulls me in for another hug, telling me it'll be all right. Then she whispers, "Happy Hunger Games."

I wake up from my nightmare and look around for any wine bottles. They're still here. I pinch myself to try and wake myself up, but like all my nightmares, they don't end until the worse happens. I feel even more hung over. I wrestle with what's real and what's not. I clasp my face with my hands and Amaza knocks on the door, telling me it's the day of the interview with Caesar.


	21. Reality Is Your Nightmare

I'm going to be wrestling with reality for the rest of the day. And I do. Percy and Sirus don't show their faces again. Which is the only good thing that happens in the morning. At the interview, the main stylist; Dayana, a girl, gives me an electric dress. But with my four-finger salute in the center of my chest with strips of electricity coming out of it. My Rebel Plan has to start if it hasn't already. Ever since that nightmare, every voice has been like an echo. Making reality seem even more like a bad dream. All the voices but mine.

Dayana asks for my verdict on the dress. "I love it." I say half-heartedly.

It feels like everything I've said so far today has been sarcastic or a half-truth. I can't even decipher anymore. The world seems and feels so real, but no one else does. Caesar's voice reverberating through the structure. His laughter hanging into the air hours after its gone. Like this world is haunted. It may very well be haunted for all I know.

I listen to the Careers suck up to the crowd, and the Tributes complaining about there being no allies which I've forgotten about. They don't want the Games to go on any less than I do. But at least I'm ready to fight. I try to ignore everyone while I try to focus. To convince myself that this is real so I can get the echoes out of my head. The cheering crowd is getting on my nerves. But I can't convince myself. I'm whisked away to the stage as Wayden grabs me by the arm, taking me to the stage to get ready, asking furiously. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've tried calling your name fifteen times!"

I shake my head in disapproval and Wayden motions me to go out on the stage. As I reach the stage, the cheering crowd's screams reverberate throughout my being, between my ribs, shaking them and going to my diaphragm and causing my heart to vibrate; my breaths uncoordinated, my vision blurred almost. Caesar's voice can't reach through the crowd's volume and I'm looking at him for what to do. I wait for the crowd to settle down and when it does, he asks again. "Hello? Is anyone in there?"

He laughs a little and waits for me to speak back. "Yes. Yes. Sorry."

"No big deal. Now tell me. Why is it you're here and not the others?"

I can't tell him. And the echo of his voice just adds to the terror. "Is it because you missed me so much?"

He cracks up and he turns to the crowd for approval as the screams mimic the ones inside of me. I hallucinate the crowd as a gathering of specters, cheering me on to die. Waiting to see how people will kill me this time. "I can't really say, to be honest." I answer. "Oh c'mon,"

He leans in closer to me, whispering at a quiet tone. "I can keep a secret." Smiling sadistically. The pressure builds up even more as the terror fights against my insides. More or less, I try to act manageable. "It's a big secret, Caesar."

He smiles again and leans back into his chair, changing the subject. "Anyways, what are your thoughts on a District Arena for the Games?"

I've forgotten about that, too. But I give my input. "I just hope it's not mine."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be buried there."

Caesar remarks. "Oh, I know you're better that that, Filmlia! I have a feeling you'll win these Games for sure."

I smile back for the Hell of it. "Thank you, Caesar."

Caesar responds, cheerfully. "I think that's all the time we have for now, Filmlia. Let's give her a big round of applause!"

Before I notice it, time's up and I rise from my chair as Caesar lifts my hand into the air like I've already won. I step off of stage and Wayden's expression is even more grim than when I told him my plan. Demanding an answer. "What the Hell were you thinking!?"

I'm taken by surprise. "What?"

"You're not supposed to act like a jackass out there! And you didn't even notice it?"

Oh God. I've been so busy trying to decide reality over nightmares, I must've subconsciously reacted to a situation where my terror was at its highest and involuntarily performed in the conflict accordingly, but created a world aside from the real one. This has to be a nightmare, but I wouldn't have done that so well in a nightmare. I may have. I daydreamed, in a way. But with a twist. The alcohol probably had something to do with it, I think. Wayden snaps me out of my gaze again. "And you just _TOLD _everyone about your little _PLAN_!"

_Son of a bitch... _No use hiding it anymore. It was too complex to follow out, never mind the people that would die. And now they will. Anger bubbles inside of me, terror builds up even more. My senses warped in a time of intense desperation, and I can't do anything to stop it. "I couldn't control-"

"What'd you mean?"

"I had a nightmare last night and I woke up this morning with the way it started. I got scared and I didn't know what to do! Give me a break, Wayden!"

Wayden runs his fingers through his hair and spits back. "Just couldn't get a grip, could you?"

I bark back at him even more enraged than he was. "For the love of God, we both knew this plan would never work, damn it!

He crosses his arms and exhales breathily. Probably out of breath from being so angry. He agrees with me, at least. And we carried out the plan no matter what happened. At our own risk, forgetting about risks. "So, are you why there were less wine bottles in my stash?"

I wait for him to answer and he shouts back at me even more furious. As if I'm not under enough pressure as is. Or have enough stress built up that it's breaking my body even more. My fragile, ill-cared for, fragmented body. Falling apart at the seams as I frown at the floor, watching them shatter on the ground. "And you threw away all that hard work!?"

I don't answer back. My breaths unsteady and I can't catch my breath anymore. I feel lightheaded and Wayden keeps shouting at me. I really wish he'd shut up right about now. "Well, I hope you said your goodbyes."

With that, he removes himself from my space and leaves the back of the stage where some Tributes were watching us argue. I give one of them a dark glare back and I demand. "Kill me in the Games, will you?"

A female Tribute answers back cockily. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I would."

The next day, I'm with Wayden on the way to the Launch Room, and we're not saying much on the way there. When we get there, Wayden frowns at the floor and says after hours of excruciating silence. Least the echoes have stopped. "Remember whatever you did to try and win the Games."

He says it because he's my mentor. Because he's forcing himself to care. But he's right. _For my family._ Is the only thing I can remember. But he's right. _For my family. For the Rebellion. For anyone that wants the same. _

I don't feel like saying sorry, not after what happened yesterday. Instead, we look at each other in silence, disgust, and shock. I turn my head to go into the tube and I hear more footsteps, Wayden's muffled screams and as soon as I turn around, Katniss comes out from the corner. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure both of you already said your goodbyes."

I hear a gunshot and I think Wayden's dead. I'm rushing towards him and Katniss pushes me back. More gunshots. Four more. Five. Katniss comments. "They're already dead, Filmlia. Your plan has failed."

Wayden. Amaza. The stylists. The Tributes. Iris can't be dead. She can't be. No. No. I told her to flee the Capitol. She can't be dead. I made sure to tell her to leave before the day started. I made sure, if anyone lived, I wanted it to be her. I can't lose my sister again. I'm on my feet and I'm throwing punches at Katniss, shouting at her, screaming profanity. Angry that she had them killed. I can't get a single hit in but she grabs my fist. She pushes me into the tube as it seals, me unable to get a good hit in. She whispers as the tube seals in a sadistic and menacing voice. "Happy Hunger Games."

I'm banging against the glass, screaming at her still and the launch is delayed for a short time so I can keep looking at her. She runs her fingers through the glass of the tube. This is useless so I stop screaming at her. Stop banging on the tube. I could stop breathing right now, too. It'd be a tragic, stupid way to die, but I can't. The Games are above me. She smiles at me as she waves goodbye through the tube, lifting me up into the arena. Her escaping my field of view.

I can't stop thinking that she killed Iris too. I can't stop screaming, but I tell myself that I need to get a grip. _Iris. _To calm down. To focus. I'm panting now because I screamed so much, so fiercely, and the tears stream downwards without a thought, before I can do anything about them. _Iris. _Iris's name escapes my lips. Never stopping. I can't control my breathing. I'm going to die without a mentor. No sponsors. I'm all alone here. And I'll die alone.

I tell myself you're better than this. You're stronger than this. _ Iris. _That you won't let this get the best of you. I clench my fists tightly. With an incorruptible vengeance. With an inhuman fury. I turn my forlorn grief into anger. Into fuel. Electrifying myself. _I'll win the 77th Hunger Games. For Iris. For Amaza. Everyone. _I pop my neck a couple of times. I'm ascending into the Arena and I want to make myself look as fierce as possible. To show them I'm not their plaything. I will show them who I really am. Filmlia Treen. And show Katniss I'm done playing her guilt game. Before I get into the Arena, I wipe my tears away. Forcing myself to be stronger than I've ever been for this moment.

Cladius counts down and I look around my surroundings. _Districts are an Arena._ It's glamorized to look like the Capitol. I recognize this place. _District Five. _Before I can breakdown again, before I lose my mind, I think. _Don't. You. Even. Dare. Remember why you want to win these Games. Take it to your grave._


	22. The 77th Hunger Games

People are scattered everywhere. Like it _is _the Capitol. But Ignoring us. Their programming mustn't have registered us yet. Probably will register when the gong sounds. Ten seconds left, and as time passed, I turned every inch of grief into anger. _Whatever you see here won't be real. They'll use your loved ones in the Arena. They won't be real. _When the gong sounds, I leap off my plate and head towards the Cornucopia, pushing everyone out of my way. And they are registering now. People are running away, some are killed in the Bloodbath, some fight back. A smarter, deadlier programming. The ones fighting back aren't are just normal people, and they don't cause that much of a threat. Maybe as the Games progress, they might get harder. I make my way to the Cornucopia, at which point, Malvin Carter, the one with the knives, throws knives at me and by some odd force, I'm able to dodge it. Maybe it's because I spotted him so far away before he saw me. My mind triggered a response and made an effort to watch his knives at the slightest change of his body language when he'd throw them.

The knife finds a place to rest in someone's cheek bone as they instantly die. Either they're really weak, or the impact of the knife was so powerful. I go with the latter to make it more of a concern to dodge it even more. He must've gotten what he needed and he's moving away from the Cornucopia, stabbing people with his knife and flinging them out of his way. Or bumping into them and knocking them out of his way. I head to the Cornucopia to get what I need and by now the crowd seems to have dwindled completely. Almost. Some haven't escaped yet. And when everyone fades out, I see there are at least seven bodies so far. Less than thirty if you count the innocent civilians. Around twenty-five. Some people must've gone out into the city, into the lower parts of Five, specifically designed for this Arena, I guess. And some into the more open locations like the mountainsides. The Cornucopia must rest in the middle of the map. It just _had_ to be my District. Another way of Katniss trying to destroy me. It has to be.

I try to think of where I should go, and where the Careers would possibly be. Into the city. More to control. I want to stay away from them for now. I head to the mountainsides and think it may be less occupied than the other options. Staying within the confines of the District. I think I've reached a far enough of a distance from the Tributes by now and I sit down on a ledge, examining my goods from my backpack and put my quiver on, resting my bow beside me. All that's inside are what was inside last time. Medicine. Seven bottles of water. Food. Exotic food. I hear the cannon sound after a while as I progress around the Arena with a water bottle in a little pouch in my backpack. My quiver under my backpack but the arrows are positioned to where I can still easily access and use them. And with my luck, the backpack is light. When it hits nighttime, I don't care to look up into the sky. I saw who died anyways. Three. Six. Seven.

And immediately following the end of that, I hear people shouting in the distance. I see torches in the shadows. What are they going to do? Set houses on fire? Set _people_ on fire? I spring up to my feet and see them as an enemy. But I don't attack all those people. It's a massive mob heading my way. And probably everyone else's. I run away and they throw their torches at me, and I barely make it out of the way. When they hit the ground, they set the ground on fire. More and more fire grows, and when they walk over the fire, they catch on fire, but they're still coming towards me. Shouting at me. _What the hell is going on?_ I keep running and look around for anything to use to my advantage. Nothing. Just a blasted city line. This is a lure. And to strike terror in you. It's working.

I get tired of running and I fire a Shock Arrow at one of the men that's not affected by the fire and he spazzes out to his death, sending an arc to the others, ignoring the ones ignited by fire. Someone bumps into me from behind. A girl from Twelve. She grabs my arms with an iron grip. "Save me! Save me! Save me!"

I jerk her off of me and I watch her burn to a crisp before my eyes. The people have to have fire retardant clothes on, but how is it not melting their skin off? _Artificial Intelligence. _The less it makes sense, the scarier it must be. The girl in front of me has degraded to ash in a matter of seconds. _Avoid them at any cost. _I try to run away from them and I end up being surrounded by them. Their charcoal faces laughing at me, twitching at me, shouting at me. Surrounding me. The people don't have their torches, and they're not on fire. I remember how I arced with my Shock Arrow so I keep firing them, jabbing the AI's with my arrows. Must be a stronger arrow this time around. And it has _5_ on the backpack. _Fitz. _I seem to have wiped out some of the crowd, but they're still coming. They're too close to me now. Pushing me. Kissing me. Beating me. I can't keep this going forever and I close my eyes, waiting for this to end. Someone threw me onto the ground and they're kicking my sides, my face, my back, my stomach, and my breasts. What seems like hours later, it's morning now. _When it's night, the darkness comes out. _I don't know how I managed to make it out alive. But my body's even more sore than humanly possible. A man picks me up and even the slightest touch stings. A man in Capitol Couture. _Trent._ "You look lost."

_Not real. Artificial Intelligence. _I exert myself just to spit in his eye, shorting it out some. I get out my Shock Arrow and jab him in the eye where I spat him at. _Electricity and liquid is a deadly combination._ I watch him die and even if it were an AI, it doesn't make it any better. A cannon sounds. Must be a Tribute died somewhere. Programs are sweeping up people's ashes right now. Five right now. Others weren't so lucky. I exert myself to keep going, and I do. Into the cityscape. There are tall enough buildings that may pose as cover from those assaulters, no doubt it has to be guarded. I head into one of the houses in the lower parts of the Arena to try and recover. I head to a living area and rest in one of the couches. This is the most luxurious Games ever. If it weren't my District and if people I knew and cared about weren't here, it'd be better. But with that, it can't be that great really.

I get out my backpack and drink some water, resting my backpack on the couch beside me. The bow on the other side. As I drink some water, relief begins to kick in in the form of hydration. I could use some food, too, so I get out a container and find a chicken leg garnished in orange, alluring sauce. Coated with more juices inside that more than satisfy my needs. Exploding in my mouth in a burst of flavor, almost taking my mind off of my beating. Almost,

I end up asleep on the couch and minutes after I do, someone screams at me to get out of their house. An elderly young woman. When I don't get out fast enough, or she probably would've done it anyways, she presses a panel on a wall that alarms Peacekeepers. I should really get out now. The woman goes out to hide in a closet and I'm packing my things to depart the quarters. I force myself to, anyways. And I've been good at pushing myself when I want to. The Peacekeepers arrive and I'm already gone, but then they say to search the perimeter. Is this what Five and the other Districts would be like if people relied on the Capitol? Too afraid to act. Always relying on someone else to do even the slightest things. When no one's strong enough or able to do your everyday needs. Might be the same for the other people, too.

I sense someone coming my way, and I ready my Pulse Arrow. Peacekeeper, maybe. If it weren't for their suits, it'd be easier to jab an arrow in them but I don't have that many options. Only certain parts are more fortified than others. So the Pulse Arrow will send out an Electromagnetic Pulse to disable the guns, but I don't know if it has a cool down or how many times I can use it. When I think pulse, I think about Chameleon. I don't even have to be near him or fire it inside of him to activate it. I could do that, but I see a small screen on the side of the arrow. I slide my thumb over it and it slowly powers up. _Thumb-Print and Body Chemistry._ As a Peacekeeper comes around the corner, the Pulse Arrow activates, sending a shockwave that knocks him back and disabling his gun. I look at the screen: Fifteen minutes cool down.

_Fair enough._ I head to the Peacekeeper and fire a Shock Arrow at the side of his leg that's not protected, sending a shock to his nerves. I don't waste anymore time here and I leave before it may be too late. It could very well _be_ too late already. Another Peacekeeper comes from around the corner, and another behind me. I grab my arrows and jab them through their throats. Fire Arrows. I run away while I still can and I end up shot in the calf. I try to fight through the pain and then the Peacekeeper fires at my shoulder at the worst possible time. I force myself to grab my Explosive Arrow and the Peacekeeper fires at my shoulder again. I use my good shoulder to grab my Explosive Arrow and throw it at him as well as I can, missing the barrel of the gun where I had wanted to fire it with my bow. Instead, it misses the barrel and blows him back anyways, knocking the gun out of his hand. I get up and grab his gun, kicking it aside when he tries to reach for it. I grab the gun and fire some bullets in his throat. I attach it to my belt for later use and I'm on my way, away from the vicinity. I turn my head to see if any are following me and I see reinforcements arrived late. Good.

I see that I can't hide anywhere for long. The city line is probably crammed with Careers, fighting for control. Might be more Peacekeepers there, too. The mountainside is the only safe place to go right now. But I need to reserve a place just in case in the city line. Somewhere to hide because it's dark out already. The days and nights must be uneven to keep people guessing and give less people time to go forth with a certain plan. A thought occurs. I can plant an Explosive Arrow as a trap on the bottom floor of the smaller buildings, causing them to collapse on top of anyone unfortunate enough to enter my trap. The Explosive Arrow doesn't work like that, sadly.

As soon as I reach the city line, I see there are no small buildings even if I wanted to make a trap. And the buildings are made of steel around here. I go into one, slowly, and look inside to see if there's anything I need to know first before I go inside. Like a booby trap. It seems empty so far. I step further into the door and the second step I take, I hear something activating. I proceed with caution and then a shaft of arrows pop out from a wall, immediately firing four arrows my way. Has to be Three or this was rigged from the start. I dodge the arrows almost barely, but two nick my temple. I slowly proceed further into the building and up the spiral stairway. When I'm halfway up, the floor opens up in front me and I end up falling, almost unable to catch myself. It's two stories from here.

I climb myself back up and I keep going. When I reach the top, I think I'm safe, and then I hear a beeping noise._ Bomb._ I descend the staircase and I fall through the opening again, unable to catch myself this time, falling two feet and I'm incapable of moving, to get away from the blast on foot. Pretty much all my bones are bones are broken by now. I try to slide my way out of the building and as soon as my body's out the door, the building falls on top of my legs. I let out screams of pain and know there may never be a way for me to get my legs out. You're not supposed to hide from the assaulters at night. You're not supposed to take refuge in houses. You're not allowed to escape from people in the buildings. You're only allowed to be in the streets. Fighting for your life. The mountainsides are so far still the safest places to be. I hear the assaulters' shouts and me without my legs to run. I force myself to get my leg out of the rubble, but it's like they're fractured. It won't work. They're completely broken. Two stories of rubble will do that. Especially if it's metallic rubble. The Archer from Eleven comes by and sets his bow on the ground, removing the rubble. _We're not supposed to have allies._ I think. I don't listen to it. I let him help me. This could've only lasted for so long. Guess my relationship with Eura and my salute to Eleven during the Tour changed his mind and some others. They felt the glimmer of hope, but they were afraid to reveal it. The assaulters are coming closer and Terrence is getting closer to freeing my legs from the rubble. He'll have to hoist me up his shoulder or carry me. Probably carry me.

My screams are worsening my condition since my diaphragm was shattered, and my breaths exasperating my state. "You'll be okay. I promise."

I get a lump in my throat and I begin to snicker with joy as the weight is lifted off my legs. Surprised I even lived as is. The assaulters are nearing us and I give Terrence my gun. He takes it and turns his attention to thinning out the crowd. I feel like such a murderer do this. I feel like a murderer in the Games. I know you have to kill, but ever since the last Games, I remember how I hated watching people die, or killing them myself. This isn't benefiting in any way. The machine gun makes quick use of the assaulters and then he runs out of ammo. I want to fire an Explosive Arrow, but they might catch fire if I do that. Ruling out two arrows. Terrence fires a Shock Arrow and I try to slide my way further out of the rubble when I can. The assaulters are attacking Terrence now and I don't waste time. I fire an arrow in someone's temple, electrocuting them. Then more people gather around me, kicking me again. Terrence fights back and gets on his feet, taking on the killers with his fists alone. He's thick-skinned anyways. He gets the people kicking me off of me and his last words are: _Get away anyway you can!_ I slide my way away from them as fast as I can, and then when they've killed Terrence, they come towards me. I'm already an _okay_ distance away from them, but they're coming at me faster. There's less of them now, but that's besides the point. I get tired of sliding and I can't push myself any further. I begin to move slower and they move faster. Needless to say, I can't just live out the duration of the Games a helpless wreck. I'm doing better than I thought I would though. I take a chance and fire my Explosive Arrow at them, having the opposite effect I thought it would. Different fire, I guess. Or it's a different programming compared to the others. There's the Torchers and then there's the Assaulters.

Terrence's body lies at an uncomfortable angle, and I can't get his backpack even if I could move without splitting pains in my body. I can't do it anyways. But he'd want me to have it. He'd want me to take it from his bloody body. But I can't. I don't want to. I have my supplies anyways. I watch the hovercraft's claw carry his body inside and watch it disappear into the clouds. _Don't. Close. Your. Eyes. Don't black out. Don't.. Black…_ My resolve is getting weaker and I try to get my backpack off of my back and stand it up in front of me. If only I had a satchel. I exert myself to drink some medicine with shaking muscles. This medicine will help heal my wounds faster. And I can't sit up, so it's almost impossible. And it's not good to drink something lying flat on your back with the medicine held up to the sky, pointing downwards so it can fall in your mouth. I swallow what I can, though. Short amounts at a time shouldn't be that bad. When I think I've gotten enough, I set the bottle next to me, looking up at the sunrise. Remembering how beautiful it was when I first saw one. I remember what Terrence did and I four-finger salute the sky, whistling the tune I did before. _Don't black out._

I fight to keep my eyes open long enough for the medicine to kick in. To not die at the hands of the Capitol. Of it's twisted creations. I would die for someone that wants a Rebellion as much as I do, but I would also win for them. Because it's what they'd want. I don't know if this'll work or not, but I may think some people in Eleven or Three at least will be saluting back in their houses. Away from public eye. Or some brave souls in Eleven would do it in public eye, risk being killed. But I think Terrence's family would be the one to do it in public eye. Battling the Capitol. When enough time passes, I feel some of my wounds beginning to heal. My legs may be broken beyond repair. If I had a brace, it'd help my legs. There isn't one on my backpack though. I roll up my nylon pants, starting with the left leg, and experiment. I pour the medicine, slowly, over the top of my legs so it can sink it through the pores. Hopefully. It's so fucking painful I can't stand it. It may not even work since two stories of metal collapsed on my legs. And the pain is so excruciating that my eyes get heavy, making me sleepier. But I use myself as a guinea pig and go with it. A couple of minutes pass and my leg seems to be healing a little. Only a little. I do the same with my right leg and I'm running out of medicine. I try to slide against the wall of a nearby building and sit up as best as I can, drinking down the rest. I groan, before I can stop it, groaning loudly as the pain begins to fade away. _Ahh…_

The streets are filling up with people again. I had forgotten I was in the city line. They see me as a non-hostile, which is a good thing right now. By the time the streets are packed again, I feel like I can stand again, but just barely. Hours must've passed and the sunrise is nonexistent by now. Eight in the morning, maybe? It could be. I feel exhausted enough that my mind's a little foggy. And it's kind of hard to tell what time it is with the way the time works here. Whatever the case, I'm getting better.

I pack back up again and I'm on my way again around the streets. People laughing, talking, drinking and falling flat on their faces, and some giving me weird looks because I'm not dressed like they are. I bump into some of them with them being so close together. If I were claustrophobic, this'd be more of a nightmare than the Games.

Someone bumps into me, drunkenly. We both end up falling to the streets and she cracks up laughing. More people end up falling down like they've been infected by some pandemic. Something in the drinks? As more people fall down, the more I'm able to see and I see some Careers heading my way. They stop when they see me, one shouting at me to get off their turf. I grab my arrows and I'm ready to fire or fight, and then, we watch someone get a fill of a drink from the fountain, drinking it and moments later, falling down and laughing themselves to death. I sense something coming my way and I duck the oddly-shaped blade. Maybe I should dunk someone's head into the fountain, but they'd have their mouths closed and their eyes the same. But they'll have to plug their noses and if they don't breathe underwater, the fountain won't kill them. The Careers make their way towards me and Brawnessa happens to be one of them. I fire my Explosive Arrow at the Careers and they can't make it out in time. A knife hit's the back of my shoulder I was shot in, and it still has the bullets lodged inside of it. Malvin just knocked one out and even more blood trickles out of my shoulder. It becomes even more difficult to shoot my arrows, and I'm at the mercy of the Careers now. Malvin throws a knife at my spine and the back of my neck. Someone catches me before I fall and takes the knives out of me. _Chameleon._ I should've known he'd be on my side. He tells me to stay here as he holds the knives in hand, sneaks up behind Brawnessa and sticks it in the back of her neck. She backhands and it must not have worked. Chameleon continues to fight back as she opens her mouth, he shoves the knife into the back of her mouth. That should be enough to cause substantial damage. And it is. Even if she rips it out, she'll probably bleed internally. A terrible way to die. A knife lodged in the back of your mouth. Malvin had ran in another direction by now and is out of eyesight, battling the others unless he died or escaped by a miracle, off to heal his wounds like me. Chameleon steadies me against the side of the fountain and I tell him the water is poisonous. He turns off his device and shows his face, sixteen? He reaches in his backpack to feed me medicine. I tell him I can do it but he tells me not to exasperate my injuries.

By now, Brawnessa's screams have silenced some, and soon, so will she. He sits beside me and feeds me the medicine. I ask him. "What's your name?"

"Why'd you want to know?"

"Because, in case one of us die, I want us to know each other's names. So I don't forget you."

He smiles back, answering in a monotone that has cracks in random parts of his sentence. Has to be traumatized by something and he hides from battle. Something horrible must've happened. "Walter Hatcherson."

"Filmlia Treen."

Walter. District Six. I had forgotten his name. But I remembered his District. Probably helped work with cloaking devices on transportation. Incorporating it as a weapon. Hiding from the face of danger to stay safe. He keeps feeding me the medicine and gets bandages from his backpack to put my arm in a cast. Must've studied this. "You don't have to do this." I correct.

"I do."

I look at him in the eyes. "Rebellion?" I say with a whisper, as if I'll be able to whisper with the cameras so tight on me. Or they're turning away from me right now.

"Yes."

I think I'm having more of an effect than I thought. Or revealing my Rebel Plan was seen as an act of bravery for some. And how they must've seen how to the last Games, and I wanted to go back in. And when it was announced that there'd be no allies, some began to feel sorry for me. Maybe revealing my plan was a great idea. When Walter seems to be done putting my arm in a cast and covering my shoulder with a bandage, he tells me to take it easy until the medicine kicks in. So much for being strong. I thank him and then he separates himself from me, cloaking. Katniss must have been watching all of this unfold, and wondered why the Gamemakers didn't just kill us right here. Or why I didn't die in the beginning. _Is Isaac on my side?_ I wouldn't be surprised. Not the first time he's held out on me. The fight with Katniss last time was challenging. And this time, not so much. And I wasn't even that good. I remember what Wayden said about some Capitol residents disagreeing that there being a 76th Hunger Games. The Capitol displaying Katniss's dead body. Now being an even worse ruler than Snow, some people are anxious to get this all over with, to stop the Games, to overthrow the Capitol and put someone in charge that won't corrupt the system.

But with everything that's happened, I'm sure Katniss is _loving_ this. She's been building up to the 77th Hunger Games and it blows up in her face. I try to move and I'm doing better at walking now. I thank Walter in my mind, and then I hear a cannon. Thinking it's him. Two more cannons. Another two. Isaac must be stepping things up somehow, or Katniss gave him a threatening lecture. Something has to be happening. Five cannons in less than ten seconds. I'm about to get an arrow when I remember I can't use my other arm. I have a little limp in my step. I'm so vulnerable. I trip over the bodies of the people that laughed themselves to death, and then they begin to spaz out, laughing even more. _Run. Run. Run. _I try to run, and I end up falling on my face, but I can't stay here. I limp as fast as I can and the people keep coming towards me like zombies. I look back to see how close they are, and then I bump into Terrence. A Zombified, corrupted version of himself. He picks me up by the throat and smashes me against a wall twice, aggravating my bones. I can't fight back, and the zombie citizens are attacking Terrence now. The dead Tributes are being turned into Mutts.

Terrence fights off the people with his hands, switching every now and then as he tries to strangle me. He's too strong for me to attack him. And I can't do anything to hurt him since he helped me. I just wait for him to drain the life out of me. I begin to feel lightheaded again, and I almost feel my eyes rolling over the back of my head. I'm about to die when Brawnessa steps up, putting Terrence in a headlock and beating his face in with her fists. I try to limp away and she grabs my ankle, causing me to trip. She slams her fist onto my ankle and I scream as I heard my bones crack it was so painful. Terrence gets Brawnessa in a headlock and lifts her head upwards, flexing his muscles as she's deprived of oxygen. I think he's about to rip her head off until she elbows his side enough times to make him release his hold on her. And then, reaching in her pocket to repeatedly stab his Atoms Apple. _Run._

I escape the fight and leave them to themselves. No matter how many limbs are detached. No matter how much damage is inflicted, they're still crawling, still making my way towards me. Zeke comes from around the corner and a gasp of terror escapes me. He's laughing at me now, too, and grabs my jacket, pulling me in for a kiss and biting my lips. I spit in his mouth to get him away from me. Blood trickles down my lips and his decaying lips against mine makes me sick. "You don't love me?"

He shouts at me. "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME!?"

I shake my head in disapproval and try to escape, and then Zeke grabs me by the throat, shaking me, shouting at me, cutting off of my oxygen again. Someone breaks out from the ground and grabs my broken ankle, squeezing it and making it even worse. _What is happening?_ Someone grabs Zeke's ankle and then more people break out from the ground, pulling Zeke down with them and taking me with him. He still has a grip on my throat and I can't get him to let go until the zombies fight over each other, killing each other to get up to me. I try to limp away and then I hear zombies screaming in unison. "KILL HER!"

Zombies start to pop out of the ground, grabbing my ankles and me tripping over them, trying to flee. A zombie punches me in the face, laughing. They keep shouting that line and then they start to mutilate me, beating me, and screaming in my ears, probably busting my ear drums. It's more of a horror show than the last Games. And I'm helpless to stop it. I'm not as strong as the other Tributes, yes. But I'm also going to die like this. I end up crying of terror because of the terror. The pain. And then someone rips apart my arm cast and digs their teeth into my shoulder. I scream and then someone muffles my scream. I hear Katniss whisper in my mind. _There's not a soul that can save you._ The zombies keep screaming to kill me. _There's not a soul that would care._ Someone bites at my shoulder again, then someone bites my leg as they keep beating the hell out of me. _I hope you've said your goodbyes._ Bloody. Scarred. Bruised. Broken. Dying. I can't fight back either. There's too many. And Katniss will win. _It's too late to say goodbye._ I let out a bloodcurdling scream and close my eyes. I get tired of this and fight back any way I can and someone bites my elbow. Someone grabs one of my arrows and decides to impale me with it, but it backfires on them, arcing throughout the crowd and greatly affecting them. Shock Arrow. It didn't have enough of a charge to get everyone and I force myself to get another Shock Arrow, forcing myself to stand up so I can jab the arrows into the zombie's eyes, disintegrating them. Arcing. I'm running on vengeance and trying not to die. There's one left and I'm bleeding out. Even the marrow of my _bones_ are sore. My vision blurred. My eyes are heavy. The zombie is trudging towards me and I think. _One… More… Left…_ I jab the arrow through his chest as many times as I can until I'm done with it, and then I punch him to the ground, falling with him but I hold myself up with my arms, immediately failing as I fall to he ground. I'm too weak to do much of anything, and coughing up blood is repulsive. I end up smothering myself in my blood, coating my face in it. I know I told myself I wouldn't play around, but I can't predict what would've happened to me in here. I end up shedding tears and Katniss will be laughing at me. So will anyone with or in the Capitol that hates me. The Districts that care will be watching me. To see how I react. What I'll do. How I could possibly keep going after this. It's over. It has to be over. I can't reach my medicine, not that there'd be much of anything left to save me. It's over. Just forget anything ever happened. Just forget about everything, and close your eyes. Prepare to die. Know you sparked something. My last course of action has to be the four-finger salute to the world. I force myself to roll over onto my back, and salute, whistling. Then I close my eyes, letting my hand fall to my side, waiting for a release. I find myself then back on stage with Caesar Flickerman, his face serious again, and he's wearing a midnight suit. He looks like he's just said goodbye to someone he loves. "Filmlia. Is it true that you wanted to overthrow the Capitol?"

My voice undermined. Cracks at certain points of the conversation. And I feel like I've been sick for years. "I did."

"Why?" He asks.

I look into the crowd and my friend and acquaintances are sitting in seats instead of Capitol citizens. I turn back to Caesar and reply. "Because of the Games. Because it's corrupt."

He frowns at the floor for a second, and then he looks at me, looking like he'll shed a tear. "Of course you do."

He holds my hand softly, rubbing his thumb against mine. "What would you do when you stopped the Games? The Capitol?"

"I'd put someone in charge that I trust, and we can all live in peace. No forced labor. No more kids being sent to die. A chance to have our suffering mean something."

He squeezes my hand tightly, and then he releases his grip, but still holds my hand tenderly. The crowd agreeing with me in a serious tone. A caring tone. I frown at the floor and Caesar tilts my head up with his finger, looking in my eyes. "You're a remarkable woman, Filmlia. Whatever it takes, don't let the Capitol take what you have."

He wipes away a tear and finishes in a more heartbreaking tone. "Never."

I smile back lightly, disappearing seconds after it's done. "Thank you Caesar."

He nods in approval and turns to the crowd, keeping his tone and asks. "What do you think about this?"

Wayden stands up first and answers back. "I think that it's a great idea. If anyone can do this, it's her."

I don't know what to think. He sits down and then Iris stands up. "I always admired her determination and unwillingness to never give into the enemy."

Caesar asks her a question. "And what, exactly, makes you believe that?"

"Because she's my sister. Because she's one of a kind."

The tears come down as I keep looking at the crowd. Letting the tears fall. Amaza stands up now as Caesar asks. "Why do you think this is a good idea?"

"We fall in love with Tributes, and then we watch them die. So, I believe in Filmlia Treen. I believe that this Capitol can't be saved, but we can do the next best thing. Recovery."

Zeke. Rissa. Mez. Fitz. Eura. Trent. Gravin. Mulika. Dayana. My mother. Gabby. All explaining why they think I should be the one to stop the Capitol. The tears are falling down my face like a waterfall, and Caesar's hand hasn't removed itself from mine. He gives me a squeeze and asks me. "Why do _you_ think you can overthrow the Capitol?"

I can't speak, but I force myself to. Stopping the tears. Or trying, at least. "I don't know."

"Aw, there has to be someway you think you can."

I try to take some time to think about how I could possibly stop any of this. When I think I have my answer, which feels like forever, I answer back. "Because I have an unwavering ability to never surrender."

Caesar nods for approval. "If I do that, then…I'm surrendering myself to die for a cause I don't believe in. I don't like to give up. But what is my strength is also my weakness. Never giving up. I'm human. And I push myself past my limits so I can achieve an unlikely goal."

Caesar doesn't interrupt, neither does the crowd. Clinging to every word. "And when people abuse their power, it fuels my need to fight. But sometimes I forget that I have limits, and I try so hard to hide it. I want to be that person that a little kid without hope can look up to and say, 'Look at her! I want to be just like her one day. She's so brave. So strong. I want to be like her.'"

I wipe away some tears and continue. "Even if that kid watched other kids die in the Hunger Games. So I trained myself to become someone they can look up to. Because I believe that I can stop the Capitol."

I frown at the floor, choking up again, repeating. "'I want to be just like her!'"

I can't stop the tears from falling and Caesar squeezes my hand, letting my head fall on Caesar's lap. Some people in the crowd are crying too now. Some show signs of hope. Of life. Knowing that underneath all that violence and rage, underneath that hard shell, is an eighteen year old girl with the heart of a kid, wanting all of this to be over. Striving for that goal. Everyone gives me the four-finger salute and I look to Caesar who does the same. Everyone whistling the tune on note. At the same time. My heart begins to lift some more and Caesar urges me. "Now, get back out there and do what you need to do. We believe in you."

I wake back up in my bedroom in the Arena still and I see Walter sitting in a chair next to my bed. Must've used some medicine. He could use some himself, though. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees me awake and I ask him. "How long have I been out?"

"Couple of days."

I try to be okay with it. "What's happened so far?"

"Twelve, and some of the others are dead. Some of the lethal Tributes and Careers are still out there, though. But not in as many numbers as before."

It makes things better, at least. I examine his bruises and I ask him. "What happened to you?"

"Trying to get you somewhere safe."

He has scars on his left arm and one down his forehead and between his eyes. "Couldn't get my cloak on fast enough."

"What have you been doing since I've been out?"

He takes a deep breath. "Keeping anyone from coming in here"

He begins to snicker back. "And the funny thing is, is that everyone thought you were dead, but no one heard a cannon. You were hanging on for dear life. Not like there was much life in you when I found you."

"How bad was it?"

He stops snickering and his voice gets serious again. "Two to three beats per minute."

I shudder. "It's taken some time to get you to the state you are now. I was lucky to get some gifts from sponsors for more medicine for you and for me."

Well, at least some aren't heartless. Some actually care about what happens to us. Unless it was forced or it was just for the hell of it. "Thank you, Walter."

He leans forward and replies. "You're welcome. You should be able to move around now, just for your information."

We smile back at each other and I decide to have input on an opinion. "What happened when everyone thought I was dead?"

He takes a deep breath. "Not much, but I bet everyone's hearts stopped when they thought yours did. I came by before it was too late."

I can imagine. Especially my mother. But with the way her heart is, when her heart stopped, she probably died because of it. The stress was too much. Gabby's in shock. My friends frightened. The people involved with my plan speechless. And I bet Wayden was too scared to even reach for a bottle of wine. As for the Districts…they might not be Rebelling considering they would've waited for a cannon. They're always on point. And when they knew I was dying, they most likely decided to act regardless. _Some of them_, I think. And when they saw Walter bringing me to safety, when they saw he was trying to help, fighting to his death to keep me alive. The spark grew.

I get on my feet again and Walter clears up. "I've also removed the bullets in your shoulder."

Another good thing. Must've cleared out anyone in here, too. "And another reason for the scars is the feast."

I smile back at him, feeling my heart melt a little. I saw him as a threat, and he's proven to be a friend. He makes a sound as if he's going to speak, and then an axe hurls through the window into the back of Walter's skull, knocking him out of his chair. I grab my quiver and then Sarah of District Seven is throwing another axe at me. I use my quiver as a shield and I grab my bow, ducking underneath the window for cover while I strap on my quiver and get my bow in hand, ready an arrow to fire and then I raise an arrow to the air for confirmation to see if she's still here. See if she'll knock the arrow out of my hand. Either she's coming towards me or he wants me to show my face. Before I slowly rise up to face Sarah, I whisper goodbye to Walter, and steel myself for whatever happens. When Sarah throws her axe, I'm using my bow as a shield and firing the arrow I have ready to fire. Smoke Arrow. She slices it in half with her knife, only to blow up in her face as the timer sets off the smoke mechanism. I use this time to head towards Sarah when I can and I hear her coughing. I near her and then I duck the axe. She's moved out of the way of the smoke. I keep firing my arrows and she's preserving her axes now, knocking my arrows away. When we get in close quarters, I'm still trying to wake up and I'm doing good for being rusty right now. I'm bound to make a mistake, though. Sarah swings her axe at me and when I duck a swipe, I'm kneed in the face and I'm left open for another attack. Having an axe across my forehead. I spit in her eye and I jab my arrow in her shoulder, making her drop her axe and we reach for the axe as it falls. But since I spat in her eyes, she'll have trouble looking for it. I grab her axe and slit her throat, watching her fall to the ground. Cannon. And then she's down. I throw away her axe and look around for anyone else. Then I rely on the senses afterwards. _Safe._ I keep moving.

I look around and as I leave Sarah's body, a Peacekeeper is reeled down to ground level and carries Walter's body to carry into the hovercraft. And another craft comes by with a claw to bring Sarah's body into the carrier. _I'll add you to reasons to win._

I head to the mountainsides and examine my supplies so I can take some time to eat and drink something. My stomach is eating itself and my throat is dry. When I open my backpack, I find it's refilled in terms of medicine, water bottles; cold, and the chicken legs I had at the start of the Games. Walter. _Thank you again._ I dig into the chicken and revel in the time I have to myself. Enjoy that there were allies in these Games. I chow down the leg and move onto the next one. The juices meet my needs for hydration, but it's not enough. I drink some water and before I know it, the water's gone. I chow down like it's a feast, and it might be. Ten chicken legs, and when I get on my third, I tell myself to preserve it, same with the water. Ten bottles and I'm halfway through my third.

Katniss mustn't know what to think what with me being alive and failing to get rid of Walter with his cloak on pretty much all the time. He could've run away from the feast without a scratch, but everyone will start thinking twice once they see a hovering backpack.

When it's nighttime, the Torchers and the Assaulters are still coming. And I see the Torchers spawning about a couple of yards away from me. The mountainsides are safe at day, but the source of the nightmares at night. I pack up as fast as I can and I fire a Pulse Arrow at them, knocking them all back. Some falling off a cliff. Fifteen minutes until I can use it again. But I think the Torchers won't be that much of a problem for now, what with some of them taken care of for now. I begin to hear cannons off the bat after firing my arrow and know I wasn't as lucky as the others. I run away from the mountainsides before more decide to spawn and I hear footsteps coming my way. Assaulters, Tributes, or someone else. When I reach the confines of the District again, I see it was Assaulters. Before I can fire an arrow at them, knives mow them down. _Malvin._ Some of them turn their attention to him as the programming registers him as a threat. As expected, the Assaulters are no match for him. He seems to run out of knives and then a Tribute appears behind him as he ducks a Sai, digging itself into someone's brain. Malvin grabs a knife and throws it at the Tribute. Cannon. He retrieves his knives, but before he can retrieve most of them, I try to fire at him and he knocks an arrow away from him as the electricity is snuffed out. He throws a knife at me and I can't dodge it in time. One in my sternum. Next one finds itself in my waist, sending me to the ground. I try to rip the knives out and then he throws a knife at my left wrist. In-between the bones in my wrist. Making me cringe. Another knife nails me to the ground as it attaches to my hair. Next one in my other shoulder. He gets on top of me. Laughing. "Look who's last."

I can't fight back. I could remove the knives with my free arm, but I don't want him to throw anymore knives than he needs to. Holding onto dear life again. "Got your medicine with me, did you? I thought _I _was the doctor."

"Doctor's don't impale people with knives."

He twists the knife in my waist, unable to scream. He slowly sinks the knife in deeper, commenting. "Do you ever wonder how many knives a person can stand before they die?"

He slowly sinks a knife in-between one of my ribs, twisting it as he does, gritting my teeth and showing him how much I don't care. But my life's at stake again, so my efforts of doing so is poor. "Maybe four? Five? Seven?"

He swiftly sinks the knife in deeper in-between my ribs and it hurts like hell. Like. Hell. "And how did you even manage to win the Games if you need someone to save you? Oh, that's right,"

He looks at me cockily. "Someone else won them for you. So, now that all your allies are dead. What're going to do now?"

He begins to snicker. "You can't even stop me. And you have a free arm."

I look at him with disgust, spitting back. "And you think you can control me."

He looks at me confusingly, his smile diminishing. "What does puppetry have to do with this?"

"You think you're better than me, so you rub it in my face. You control me like you're the Capitol, and I'm someone from a lowly District."

He begins to snicker again. "Not much you can do when you kill some of them yourself."

"It wasn't all me."

Malvin continues to act cockily. "But for the ones that died because of you, the Districts hate you. There's no way they'll _rebel_ for you."

He twists the knife. "It's as simple as twisting the knife. You dig the knife into their hearts, and you-"

He rips out the knife in-between my ribs, finishing. "Rip it out."

I begin to scream some. "You're not a Rebellion Leader if you _kill_ the people you _try_ to save in the first place."

"It's the Games, Malvin! You don't have a choice."

"But what kind of leader-"

I bark back at him as well as I can. "We don't have a choice in the Games. We do what we have to do."

I try to deep breath and continue. "But I don't expect you to understand because you're a Capitol lapdog."

He begins to look at me angrily. I jerk my head forward and head butt him, jerking out some of my hair. I steel myself for the coming intensity of the agony that follows as I slowly slide the knives out of my body. Malvin sees me removing the knives and I grab it by the hilt before it penetrates my eyelid. He glares at me with fear. Shocked I caught his knife in the state I'm in. I am, too. I begin to remove the knife in my wrist and then the waist. I force myself to at least get on my knees for now and Malvin questions. "What…are you?"

I take time to slowly stand on my feet and it isn't comfortable, but I still do it. I have a knife in hand and Malvin keeps questioning. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"I'm capable of a lot of things."

I slowly trudge my way towards him since it's all I can do right now. "You're _just_ like the Capitol. You oppress and you think you're better than everyone else. I have news for you, Malvin. I'm standing up to you. I'm standing up to a higher power because there are people that need to believe that there's someone out there fighting for them."

I begin to get closer to Malvin and he steps back slowly, listening to my words. "And you won't control me to whatever needs you see fit."

Everyone's probably listening to my words now, and Katniss as well. "We're still people. We still have a soul. And we deserve more than sending our children to a pointless death match."

"Your point?"

"The world doesn't revolve around people like you. It only-"

I force myself to throw the knife at his eye, finishing. "Stops at you."

As he collapses to the ground, I managed to get the knife in far enough into his eye to cause enough damage to kill him. And he's not that strong anyhow, so he won't last long. Before he dies, he remarks. "It stops…at you…too…"

He suppresses a smile and then it's over. I won. Even if it feels like I didn't. I can't let him get the best of me. I then hear Cladius's voice booming throughout the Arena, announcing me winner of the 77th Hunger Games, and it still doesn't feel like I've won though. Like I've lost even more than I imagined myself to. I collapse to the ground on my side. Tired of being on my feet. I try to think of a positive right now, knowing the Districts will be taking my advice about standing up to a higher power. If only it were that easy, though. But it all starts at home. Fighting back. The hovercraft appears and a claw grabs me instead of a ladder coming down for me to grab. When I'm inside, I see Fitz waiting for me. He doesn't look happy. At all. I don't like this. "There's something I need to tell you."


	23. The Epic Conclusion

He begins to tell me as calm and as carefully as he can, telling me that Peacekeepers invaded Five, gunning down anything that moved. Katniss wins again. Zeke. Rissa. Gabby. My dying, sick, probably already dead mother. Killed off. I react in the only way I know how right now. I slowly rise to my feet and complain to him so furiously, so heartlessly, that he should kill me right here and right now. Zeke's dead. Rissa's dead. Amaza's dead. Wayden. Gabby. Mez. My mother. The stylists. Everyone in Five. Trent could be dead too. My old stylists. All I have left are Fitz and Eura. _All_ I have and I end up fighting him, trying to get him to kill me, he gets out a syringe and I yank it out of his hand, about to impale myself in the stab wound in my waist. Fitz tries to shout over me, and it doesn't work. I push him back and jab the syringe into my waist wound, deeper and deeper and then he grabs another syringe to inject into my neck. I wake up in a bed in the hovercraft, it seems like. I feel like painkillers have been pumped into my system hourly. I look at my body and see it's connected to all these wires and the stab wounds are bandaged up.

Fitz walks into the room and the metal restraints are the only thing keeping me from killing him right now. My human condition makes me try to fight back either way. I moan as the painkillers inside of me ease the pain. "Morphling." Corrects Fitz. Of course it was Morphling. Now I'm going to be addicted to it. He gets out a cracker from his pocket and says. "Morphling filling with coding inside that reacts to your stress. You can finish the rest."

I can. But I don't want to right now. "We're on our way back to the Capitol as you are. Interview with Caesar Flickerman and Awards Ceremony with Katniss. And before you say or do anything,"

He speedily finishes his last sentence. "At the Awards Ceremony, you'll be equipped with your bow and arrows to kill Katniss Everdeen after she gives you your crown. Understood?"

I shake my head for approval, and then I ask. "What if I get shot down?"

"Rebel Peacekeepers will be on hand."

"Because that worked so well last time."

Fitz exhales deeply and the Morphling kicks in again. Is this my life now? Having crackers with Morphling in my system? Killing Presidents? Ruining everyone's way of life? I wanted to save people. I ended up taking them. No. Katniss took them. We both took lives. Which of us have more blood on our hands? Whose hands are filthier? I don't want to think about it.

The interview with Caesar never happened. I was escorted straight to the Awards Ceremony with my bow and arrows. Katniss must have a plan of her own. Fitz stays behind. I get on the platform and I see Wayden, Amaza, Iris. My stylists. All in the clothes they were given to disguise themselves. Side-by-side. Rebel Peacekeepers faked the gunshots and escorted them out of the Capitol to safer places. Fitz had instructed that the Launch Room was an ideal place because no one would see the crew change into their clothes. Less likely to be cameras there, too.

But now they're facing me. God. Oh God. Not this. Not now. The second I register all of their faces, the Peacekeepers shotgun their heads off. In front of me. I'm screaming a new degree of bloody murder, and the guards that escorted me here hold me back as Katniss casually walks towards me. The guards Stun Baton my spine, leaving me unable to kick my legs or properly move my arms without causing damage to my spine. But I can't stop screaming. A guard puts a rag over my mouth with an iron grip and Katniss puts the crown she had in her hand on my head, congratulating me. "Congratulations on all your efforts."

I can't fight back and what she's done, is doing, and will _ever_ do is more than repulsive. It's…it's…I don't even know anymore. It's more than heartless. More than anything in the meaning of the word. My blood pressure rises by the second as I look into her beautiful eyes. Beauty filled with a need to destroy someone's life completely because they wanted to rebel against the Capitol. As my blood pressure rises, so does my need to kill her. "They'd be so proud of you."

The dark, stormy skies only add to the gloominess of this one moment. Katniss snickers back at me. "And you thought you could stop me? No. I am always better than you in every way. I hope you remember that."

My mind beginning to split even more, as if I had a mind before this happened. The Morphling supply must've run out already because I'm so pissed right now. The need for Morphling increases at an inhuman rate. And I can't do anything to stop Katniss Everdeen. She's going to get away with killing even more lives. "You had so much capability. You were so powerful. The Districts followed you. They're being pacified as we speak. Thank you Filmlia Treen. And the entire world thanks you back."

I begin to get so irritated, so outraged, so infuriated, I try to get the Peacekeepers' hold on me to release. My spine is paralyzed, so I can't do much of anything right now. My mind has officially snapped by now, and I can't help it for the life of me even if I could. The veins in my head, my body, everywhere, feel as if they're going to pop because of my fury right now. Katniss gently caresses my cheek. "You're so beautiful. So sad someone has to ruin it."

She then punches my cheek as many times she sees fit and then punches my stomach the same way. Not only can I not fight back. Not only can I not scream for bloody murder to kill her. But now I can barely breathe, let alone move my jaw. She wants to fracture me in anyway she can. Tears begin to stream down my face. Heartbreak. Helplessness. Hopelessness. It's over. I know it's over. I hear something explode behind me. Hovercraft. _Fitz. Eura._ Katniss motions the Peacekeepers to turn me around. To watch the hovercraft fall to its doom. Missiles. "Isn't it lovely? I'm sure they'd be proud, too."

There's no use of fighting anymore. No use for anything anymore. I shut my eyes and let the tears fall some more. There's nothing else I can do. Hate turns into death. Katniss tells the guards to turn around back to her and Katniss snickers at me. "It's over, Filmlia. I hope you've said your goodbyes."

And without notice or warning, I immediately stop my tears and the guards remove the rag from my mouth as I snicker back with a smile. "It's over for you, too."

A guard jabs a syringe into her neck. Anti Tracker Jacker Serum. The guards release their hold on me and I stand up as if nothing ever happened. A hole in the floor opens up revealing the people that were once shot. Mannequins. Like Snow used for Katniss. My other plan. She wouldn't have seen this one coming. Rebel Peacekeepers, as well. But it'll take some time for the serum to take effect. In the time that it will, I watch Katniss's reactions to all of this. Katniss probably doesn't know how many of her Peacekeepers are gone by now, and that the Districts she tried to pacify are unaffected right now. She turns to me and shouts with immense anger. "You son of a bitch!"

She swings a fist at me and I grab it, punching her face in as many times as _I _see fit and kick her to the ground when I'm done. Fitz shows with the others from the ground. He made a jetpack to escape the explosion before it was too late. Katniss looks around her to see everyone good as new. The audience is celebrating and no doubt the Districts are, too. The Career Districts trying to fight back, but hilariously outnumbered. Katniss begins to shout more things at me, and I end up laughing at her. We had to make a serum because the spy in the Mansion took a blood sample one day and gave it to Fitz. He analyzed the Venom and it was too strong to be cured by memories, so we had to make a serum to counter it. _He_ had to make one to counter it, I mean. Katniss begins to succumb to the effects, and as she blacks out, the Rebel Peacekeepers carry her to a backup hovercraft. Going to put her in the bed with metal restraints and continue to subject her to the serum until the Venom subsides. We all had a talk before the Games who would deserve to be leader. The votes were mixed, and they all chose me to be the new president before someone stepped up that would corrupt the system again. I step up to the microphone and announce. "People of Panem! Under a vote among my peers, they have announced me as your new president. And Katniss is on her way to recovery. From here on out, there will be no more Hunger Games. And your children, and your families, can live safer."

My mother really died, though. Gabby's taken care of by a respected family back at Five. Fitz needed to tell me all he did so I could appear how I needed to be in front of Katniss. The audience goes even crazier and the people behind me are cheering with them. I try to stay as calm as I can, but I can't hold it in any longer, so I lift four-fingers into the air and shout into the microphone. "Let's hear it for freedom!"

Everything moves in slow motion all of a sudden. I see the world almost stopping. Stopping to see what I've done. Not freeing Panem. But my plan. A full-proof plan to overthrow the Capitol at the expense of the people I love. We were all affected one way or another. And none of us will walk away the same. A tear comes down my eyes and I look behind me. They're not enjoying this either. Wayden can read me. Seeing the state I'm in. The state everyone's in.

We faked our deaths. We went forth with my insane plans. And we risked our sanity to do it._ I'm so sorry._ I think. _I really am_. I begin to shed more tears and we all embrace each other in a hug. Everyone thinks we're rejoicing. In reality, we're fragmented. I end up making out the words on my mind, and Wayden says it's all right. He tries. But he must know it really isn't. It wasn't just my plan that damaged our psyche, but what we went through to get to where we are. At least it's over now. And Panem and me, and everyone else, can go on our way to recovery.

Hours later, everyone goes off wherever. Whether it be Three or Five, or Eleven for Eura. And I head to the hovercraft to talk to Katniss in metal restraints. Eura mustn't have wanted to do my plan or try to recite and Rebellion and hid in Eleven. Too much for her.

I wait for Katniss to wake up and I fell asleep. I wake up after a while when Fitz shakes my groggy body. I turn my head to him and he tells me something. "Just thought I'd point something out before she wakes."

I nod my head and he continues. It'd be useful information. "The serum we injected Katniss with not only targeted the Venom, but when it did, it wiped some of her memory clean. It's better that way."

It is. There was nothing for her to come back to. So she'll make newer memories. It's so tragically wrong, but it's what we have. A side effect of saving her. I feel so guilty knowing I was involved in clearing her memory clean; it had to be done. But, as a plus, she can start fresh in a better world. "Nothing's perfect."

We wait in silence a little longer, and then he leaves. Seconds after he does, Katniss wakes up. Waking up like she hasn't seen the world in decades. She's going to be confused. Not knowing what to do. I have to appear as a friend to her. "Hey Katniss. It's Filmlia Treen."

It's like watching a kid learning how to speak. She must still have the memory of basic brain functions like walking and talking, but nothing else. "Can you hear me?"

"Y-yes."

She looks so lost. So dead. It's sad, really. "What's going on?"

"I don't have time to explain it all to you right now. But you'll be living a new life here."

She doesn't fight back or anything. Instead, she cooperates. She shakes her head. "What's my name?"

"Katniss Everdeen."

I hold her hand softly, wrapping my finger ms in it, smiling as we have a chance to reform Katniss. To rebuild her into a better Katniss than before. Saving her. Helping her. She slowly wraps her fingers in mine as I continue in a voice that sounds like a kid. Like a kid that's found hope in a world like this. "And you're in a better place."


	24. Epilogue

Fitz spends his days by making gadgets, almost obsessively. But he makes them for other Districts to help them live a little better. Wayden makes efforts to try and help me be a good President, and half a year later, I seem to be getting good at it. My state, all in all, has improved since then. Wayden still drinks, but he manages to control it more and ended up with Amaza. Amaza, I'm not sure what she does now. Iris helps me recover from the Games, everything. Keeping me in shape and aiding my mental state. Since my last plan at the Awards Ceremony, I've had a blow inflicted on my psyche that's devastated my world. I want to say I would've done it differently. How to save Katniss and stop the Capitol. But sometimes I couldn't think of another reason. And the nightmares made me wish I did. Days after the plan, the nightmares were more potent than they've ever been. This time, I imagined the number of ways I would live out my life. Beaten. Homeless. Lifeless. Dying. Lonely. Helpless. Hopeless. Eura's still unaccounted for.

Katniss, with the help of everyone else, has began to show definite signs of reformation. I've trained her, with Iris, to help her get in shape and have something to do with her life. At first, she needed help to even get out of bed. Let alone eat. It _was_ like teaching a child to learn the world again. Or someone that's lost the will to live, and doesn't bother to live life anymore. _Reformed._

The Career Districts have been wiped out, and the other Districts have pursued life in a better way than before. Still recovering from the Games. Still working. Though, no forced labor or no one dying this year. No more Games. It'll take forever to recover from that. For everyone. No matter the treatment. No matter what the case, it's life. Or whatever the best could be. The Hunger Games are Hell, and we're thawing our frostbitten souls. President Snow's grasp on Panem will never go away; but now, we're strong enough to fight back better than ever. Some days, I find myself daydreaming about a world with Zeke, or him being in mine. Him being gone hasn't exactly been pleasant for me either. I don't force myself to do anything anymore because there's not as much to fight for now. And because I'm trying to relax. Needless to say, aside from the negatives of the Aftermath of the Games, everything and everyone's better off now. And the thing that makes me believe that the world really is a beautiful world, the only thing that shows me that no matter the death and toils; I can still believe that everything has a silver lining. The thing that can enlighten my world: Katniss singing my whistle tune, ending in Rue's four-note whistle. Teaching Katniss about Mockingjays. We sit at one of my places in Five, leaning against a tree. Side-by-side. I extend a hand into the air as the Mockingjay perches on my finger, as I talk to her, staring at the Mockingjay lovingly. Replying in a comfortable voice. "Ever heard of Mockingjays?"


End file.
